


The Other Flower

by Nalia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, First Through Seventh Year, Fluff and Angst, Harry and Ron Can Be Bullies, It's Funny Sometimes, M/M, Multi, Not A Lot of Fluff At Present, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rare Pairings, Time Travel, Yes I Know Time Travel Is Cliche, because i'm trash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-05-10 14:22:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 37,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5589454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nalia/pseuds/Nalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pansy Parkinson wasn't a good girl. She wasn't even a particularly nice girl. However, that didn't stop her from going back to try to save the ones she loved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Other Flower

Pansy was currently situated inside of Hogwarts Library with Blaise Zabini, looking around in the Restricted Section a book his mother told him would open to the ritual they needed the most.

Blaise had changed in the years since their schooldays. His features that were already so handsome were now chiseled and sharpened by struggles and worry. His slanted eyes never held that old spark of arrogance he had always carried around anymore, instead holding something much darker and worrying. Sometimes he looked at her with those eyes and she felt like she was falling down a dark hole.

She wondered if she had changed too.

"Why in the world would they leave a book this valuable in a school library?" Pansy scoffed, yanking her hand away from the biting spine of a particularly nasty book. Blaise shot her a little smirk, and she flipped him off. Sometimes she was stunned as to how he maintained that sense of humor, but who was she to begrudge it?

"Safest place in the world," Blaise replied, not missing a bit of the mocking irony needed to make that statement. She looked over to the skeleton in the corner of the room, ragged Hufflepuff colors still hanging around its frame. Yeah, real safe.

It was only due to the apparent backup spells put in place for this very reason that the books were not ruined by rain, as they would be in any regular library due to the largely missing ceiling. The halls now rang empty, only a ghost of it's former glory. If Pansy listened closely she could still hear the footsteps of all of the children. So many were dead now. She wondered sometimes if the British wizarding population would be able to sustain themselves after this. She still doubted it

"Pansy, I think I have it."

Pansy turned around to see Blaise surrounded by the same stack of books he had been looking through for the past hour. She had been getting anxious. If they had been known as more loyal Death Eaters, they could have been gone for days and no one would have cared. However, many were starting to suspect their alliance with the Order. The only reason they weren't dead yet was that the Dark Lord needed bodies. They couldn't be away for too long, though, or they'd surely be branded traitors.

He handed her a deep blue book covered with silver runes. Pansy could practically feel the power coursing through her fingers when she touched it, and she gave a little shiver. The tome was heavy in her hands, and from the script on the from she knew this particular book had been around for a very long time. Some of the old, powerful magics were lost to memory and unfortunate book burning. These were the magics she was going to call upon to save herself and her family.

"Are you sure this is it?" Pansy asked in a whisper. It was ridiculous, but her days in the now abandoned castle as a student had conditioned her too well, and she still had some deeply ingrained fear that Madam Pince would catch her. The woman had always been a little harder on her than everyone else. Though of course, the woman was long dead. By her reluctant hand.

Blaise raised a single eyebrow at her. It was odd how she was usually the more impulsive one. "It is the one my mother described. Now open it, and let's see what's inside for us."

For a moment, Pansy hesitated. What she found in this book could very well change their entire lives. She rubbed her thumb against the rough fabric, probably an old linen or cotton that had been magically preserved, and took a deep breath. The book resisted her for a moment, and she thought she could see a twist of orange pulse beneath her skin before the tome opened.

Immediately a bright white light burst forth, and the pages whipped past in a rapid motion. The magic, ancient as time itself reached into her. No longer was she surrounded by the library. In that moment Pansy saw men and women struck down, bloody pregnancies, smiling children, cities erected, the deepest secrets of magic itself.

Just as suddenly as it began, it stopped. The light receded and the book landed on a single, yellowed page. It took a moment of blinking for Pansy to get her vision back, but when she did she peered at the paper in curiosity.

Quando Revertatur

"Time Turns Back," she translated in a reverent voice. Of course. It was far too late to save their world the way it was now, but if they went back they could change things for the better.

She scanned the page eagerly, her brain translating the latin almost faster than she could read it. The ritual would send her soul and part of her magical core back to her body at whatever point in her life that she wished it to, along with one select item of her choice "to ease the ache of a permanent separation from her previous life".

It was bloody brilliant.

Pansy looked up at Blaise and smiled, the first genuine smile that had graced her face in years. Blaise noted that it had a way of lighting up her features, making her easily one of the most beautiful witches he had ever met. Of course, he had already lost the most beautiful one twice.

"Blaise, we can go back." Pansy whispered, her excitement swirling up and out of her. She handed the book to him and he scanned it as well, before handing the book back to her before looking at her with a dark expression she didn't notice.

"Should we give this to the Order?" She questioned. Blaise closed his eyes and concentrated, pressing his wand to the Mark on his left arm. After a moment, he shook his head.

"Death Eaters, hundred miles out somewhere. It'll only take them about fifteen minutes to get the order to come find us, another fifteen to find us. We still can't apparate from here." Pansy looked a bit disappointed for a moment, before perking back up. Blaise knew she was probably let down by the fact she would never get the chance to prove herself to their pompous arses now. Her eyes were filled with a determined fire that made them glow like sapphires.

"This is perfect, we can go back and change everything. We can save our families, our friends. We don't have to live in fear anymore..." Pansy rambled on and on, and Blaise grinned ruefully at her. She certainly had an indomitable spirit, his Pans. Unfortunately, he didn't.

"Pansy, I can't go." Blaise said, breaking her speech. Pansy stopped, and now her bright blue eyes lost a bit of their fire and instead filled with a sadness that was so familiar to him it hurt.

"Pans, I just can't. I can't just go back. When you came in and saw me with my wand this morning, I was about to...well, just be lucky you caught me then." He spoke with a heaviness in his voice that bespoke of years of pain, and Pansy was reminded just of how much Blaise had been through in the years of the war.

He had to watch his house get invaded and his mother raped and murdered by Death Eaters of the uttermost circle so that they might be promoted to being one of the Dark Lords favored. He had to watch Hannah Abbott, one of his best friends and playmates from when he was younger, die. He lost Draco and Theo, his two best friends for the duration of Hogwarts and beyond. He was put under the Imperius and...sometimes Pansy still had nightmares of Ginny's hair spilled like blood on the ground around her still form.

Everyone had a breaking point. Blaise was certainly much stronger than most, but he was undefeatable. No one was.

"I can't go back like this, I'm too damaged, and if this works I'll cease to exist." Blaise smiled again, and maybe this smile was a little too happy. "It was what I was planning to do in the first place." Seeing her hurt expression, some of the glee left his features.

"You can do this Pansy. You're stronger than any of us ever were and you'll do whatever it takes for there to be a better future for all of us. A good future. A normal future."

Pansy took a step back, and ran a shaking hand through her short dark hair. Her thoughts whirled through her brain faster than a snitch, and she was filled with fear. Go back to the past, with no one else? No one to back her up, no one to lean on? No one who loved her?

For a moment, she was frozen. It had taken her a long time to get where she was with her friends, and now all of that would be gone.

But then, something took a hold of her, and she stood stock still. It felt as if a fire was coursing through her body, burning away all of her fear, and instead leaving a sort of stubborn determination. Yes, she was still afraid, but it was a little nagging thought in the back of her head.

What she wanted to do, it was right. It needed to be done. And nothing would stop her from succeeding at not only saving herself and Blaise but the entire world. An image of little Lilac with those big brown eyes flashed in her head, and that determination and courage ingrained itself even further into her till it became a part of her very DNA.

This must be what Gryffindors feel like.

She swallowed. No wonder they were always so willing to leap forward into their half-baked schemes for "the greater good".

That same courage wiped the tears from her eyes and made her stand up straighter. A strong and sure voice she didn't recognize slipped past her lips. "Right then. Well, the ritual is simple. We could probably do it right here."

Pansy looked about at the area around her. No one had been in here in so long that the floor was covered in a thick layer of dust. It shimmered like gossamer in the sunshine that shone through the partially destroyed roof.

She set the book down on a nearby table, and together, she and Blaise began to trace the required runes in the dust, creating a circle of intricate design. As she got into the more detailed work, Blaise put up some preliminary runes. They wouldn't hold anyone for long, however it would be enough for them to protect themselves to a certain extent. It was all done in relatively short order, and before they knew it, it was time.

Pansy stood in front of her old friend. Before she could say anything, he cupped the back of her head in his hand and crushed his lips against hers. It wasn't a romantic kiss or anything of the sort. No, this was a kiss of fear and connection and hope. Hope for a better future, hope for a better them, hope for a better life.

He pulled back, and leaned his forehead against hers for a long moment. They didn't have much more time, the other Death Eaters would come for them soon.

Blaise let go of her and stepped back, and she smiled sadly.

"I'll miss you." she said sadly. He shook his head, and chuckled.

"You'll see me again soon." He tilted his head. "Even if it's not the same as I am now. Hopefully that me will grow to be a much better man. A happier one. You know," he said, with a rueful laugh, "I've always wanted kids."

Pansy rolled her eyes. Of course, he did.

Blaise searched around in the pockets of his coat. They had all began dressing as muggles, because robes just simply weren't practical attire with all of the work they had to do. All of them with the exception of the Dark Lord of course.

"Here." Blaise said, handing her a small brown leather journal. She took it in her hand. It was buttery soft and supple, an Everlasting Journal that never ran out of pages.

"You'll want an ally when you go back. Give this to my younger self, it's the only thing that'll convince him. You know how I was at that age." He smirked, and Pansy nodded in agreement. Just like her, he had been a fool.

She stepped into the circle and Blaise watched her nimbly jump over the runes and walk to the center.

Pansy pulled out her wand. Twelve inches. Oak and unicorn hair.

"Tunc Figere" She intoned, spinning her wand in an eternity sign. In the distance, she could hear shouting, and the clatter of feet against the stone. Spellfire filled the air. But Pansy was not out of time. Within her was all the time in the universe.

"Tunc Nent" She continued, pointing her wand skywards. The runes began to glow, and her magic was questioning, determining the meaning of the ritual and ready to perform her will. The door flew open.

"Avada Kerdava" someone shouted. A bolt of green light hit Blaise in the chest, and she almost screamed. But she had to continue the ritual.

"Quando Revertatur" Pansy said, her wand spinning in a counterclockwise movement just as another strike of green lightning came at her.

However, that green light hit nothing, and Pansy was gone. With the wave of a wand, that timeline was gone, and a new history was written.


	2. Eleven

When Pansy opened her eyes to a canopy seemingly made up of diamonds, she knew it had worked. For a moment she found herself filled with an unbridled joy, the thrill of it reaching into her bones. The old future was over, and a new one waiting to be written.

Clutched in her now much smaller hands was Blaise's journal. She knew he had started chronicling in it about first year, and had continued up until...

An image of green lightning and Blaise collapsing filled her mind. She burrowed herself under the covers, shutting her eyes tight to keep the tears from falling. Pansy Parkinson didn't cry, not anymore. The warm cocoon soothed her shaking form, and she had to remind herself that that timeline was no more. Blaise wasn't dead, not really. Not yet.

Gathering herself with all of the dignity she still had, she popped back up and reached for her wand to cast a tempus charm, before realizing she didn't have it anymore.

"Shite." she muttered, momentarily taken aback by how high and girlish her voice was again. Concentrating, she summoned her magic and tried to cast the charm wandlessly. The familiar tingle of her magic trickled up, and up, then sputtered out of her finger, useless. She frowned. Pansy was no Lady, however she thought it would be easier than this to cast such a simple charm, especially with all the knowledge she had accumulated over the years. She tried again, and again until finally something in her snapped and the magic came rushing out of her, blue smoke tracing figures in the air.

_June 5th, 1991 8:59am_

Pansy frowned again. Something in her remembered obsessing over this date for weeks. Something about the Malfoys...Oh.  This day in the original timeline, Draco and his family had come over for a visit. When they were alone he started saying things she had then seen as blasphemy. He said that he was rethinking everything he had ever thought about what it meant to be a pureblood.

Things about how maybe purebloods weren't above everyone, about how he had a nagging suspicion that his father wasn't as great a man as he thought he was and how he was afraid of turning into him.

Of course. The words stung her now.

Pansy at the time had simpered and consoled him saying that _of course_ his father was a great man and that purebloods were the greatest of them all. Even if she didn't always believe it herself, to lose Draco to those... _heinous_ beliefs would have been one of the great tragedies of her youth. Pansy was a rather dramatic child.

Now she intended to do the complete opposite. First step to saving her best friends life? Making him a blood traitor.

* * *

TOF

* * *

Pansy pulled on the hem of her blue silk robes a little self-consciously. It was... _odd_ being in this body, this time again. The air seemed cleaner somehow. Her mansion was still intact, there were no scars littering her body. It was nice having all of her fingers again.

Seeing her mother once again towering over her was a little disconcerting, but it was even more odd to see that the older woman still had some spark inside of her. She looked so happy, so carefree. Well, as carefree as a pureblood woman in high society could ever be, but that was still saying something.

Pansy was also unused to feeling certain, how you say, _sensations_ in her younger body. First of all, she didn't feel like the twenty-two-year-old that she was anymore. She was unsteady and very _eleven._ If it weren't so clear, the future seemed like a bad dream.

Her attention span was shorter, and her emotions were out of control, though not as bad as they would be in a couple years. It was as if she were two very different people. Plus, now she had to go through puberty again, which she absolutely was _not_ looking forward too. Thankfully now she knew exactly when her period was coming, which meant she would be able to take the proper supplies when the time came to school instead of being forced to rely on Daphne Greengrass for supplies the entire year. Everyone knew a snake never did anything for anyone else without expecting something in return.

Now Pansy was standing somewhat impatiently in between her two parents, awaiting the arrival of the Malfoys. For a moment, she wondered why her family would look so blatantly interested in their arrival before she remembered that at this time her family was trying to convince the Malfoys to enter into negotiations for a marriage contract.

A bitter smile graced the girl's face. She had been in love with Draco during their school years for a good while, but she knew his heart had always belonged to another, one he would never have because of his own foolishness. A small part of her wondered if she could fix that.

They had indeed been able to secure the marriage contract, however, they lost it her sixth year to the Greengrasses because of Lilac's birth. Now that they had her, the entire conversation of who would inherit the Parkinson estate and how much any dowry would be suddenly got a lot more complicated due to the policies their families had instated a thousand years ago.

Daphne was already betrothed to a somewhat reluctant Theodore Nott, but Astoria was free. The Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass was more powerful than before, and Daphne had lorded it over her.

A knot of sadness welled in Pansy's throat. After Hogwarts the two of them grew rather close. About two months before she left, the blonde girl was struck down. Pansy simply couldn't wait to see the girl who had practically become her sister when the school year began.

After what seemed like ages, the Malfoys finally arrived. Most likely they had made themselves a couple minutes late on purpose, their way of saying "Our time is more important than yours". First Narcissa and Lucius walked in, regal and strong, their light blonde hair fluttering in an invisible wind. They looked resplendent in their matching pale green silk robes, and Pansy couldn't help but smile at how they clutched hands in their obvious fondness for one another. Lucius was an idiot, however no matter his shortcomings he was entirely devoted to his wife.

From behind them came a familiar blonde head.

_Draco_

Pansy had to bite her tongue to push through the rush of fear that suddenly swept through her. He looked so young, so alive. Looking at him, she couldn't help but overlay his image of when she'd seen him last.

_"I can't do this anymore Pans."_

Best friend. Partner. Childhood playmate. Protector.

_Draco_

He graced her with that heartbreakingly cocky smile that she hadn't seen in years. In his eyes, though, she could see the dancing uncertainty that she now knew was the precursor to what he had to say to her later on.

"Alright children, you go sit and socialize in the Blue Room. I know you want to be rid of us old bats," Ms. Parkinson said with a self deprecating smile. The other adults nodded fondly, though she wasn't fooled into thinking they weren't evaluating them to see how well they worked together.

_I hope they never know just how well we can work together_

"Yes Mother," Pansy said sweetly. She bowed to the Malfoys, then turned to walk down the corridor, Draco following closely behind her. She had only just closed the door when Draco engulfed her in a hug. She practically melted.

_Oh Draco, I've missed you so much._

He pulled away, and she looked into his face to see his face twisting and contorting. It was cute, almost, to see how unguarded and innocent he was at this age. He was still nothing more than a pure, if extremely spoiled, child who knew nothing of the ways of the world and whose pride was easily bruised.

"Pans, we need to talk," Draco said, stalking over to one of the overstuffed armchairs and plopping down rather ungracefully. In her past life she had taken this as a sign that Draco was truly upset, since he never lost his grace unless otherwise. It hadn't been completely trained into him yet.

"What do you need Dray?" Pansy asked carefully, choosing an armchair that was close to his. He wrung his hands before realizing what he was doing, before sitting back heavily and running the heels of his hands roughly against his eyes. This was really tearing him up, she noted. His face was pale as a sheet, his hands were shaking. His twisted view of the entire world was about to change.

"Pansy, what if we're wrong?" he said heavily. Pansy paused. She knew that she would have to tread carefully or risk losing him completely.

"Wrong about what?" she asked in what she hoped to be a somewhat lighthearted and curious tone.

"About... _everything,_ dear Merlin, Pans, I've been reading some of the old newspapers from the time of the war in my father's study and do you know what I found?" He said, leaning forward now. His eyes were intensely focused on her, and she knew she wouldn't have to respond for him to continue. This was all him, and he needed to get it out.

"I was looking a one from near the end and they said another Child Massacre had happened, five miles out from London in the middle of a field. So I looked into it more. The Death Eaters would round up as many muggleborn children as they could find and they would slaughter them. They would torture them and strip them of their magic and kill them."

"Some of them weren't even old enough to be out of their nappies yet Pans, some of them were babies. They killed five hundred and thirty-two kids like that, they had an inside to the Hogwarts ministry and looked up the magical kids born recently. That's like... almost all of Hogwarts! All that magic, wasted."

Pansy listened as Draco rambled on, careful to keep her face shocked and disgusted as if she were just hearing all of this for the very first time. In truth, she had seen and cleaned up the aftermath of such events, though she refused to take place in such things herself.

The Dark Lord understood and attributed it to a woman's "naturally delicate and motherly constitution". Pansy had barely contained her sneer and neglected to correct him with the information that she simply didn't wish to be a _complete_ monster. However she did cut her eyes at Bellatrix, who was rubbing the front of the Dark Lord's robes in an ungodly obscene fashion.

"I can't believe that killing babies is right Pans," Draco finished. She looked in his eyes and knew what he wanted. He wanted her to tell him that of course it was alright, that everything he had been raised his entire life to believe was right and just and he shouldn't let what was obviously dirty mudblood propaganda corrupt his mind.

He was only eleven

But, he was also a future Death Eater doomed to kill himself and lose everything he loved unless she changed the future. Unless she changed him, right in this moment, right now.

"I can't believe that either," Pansy replied truthfully. She watched his face fall, and she knew with it fell everything he'd ever been taught.

For a moment, Pansy's vision sharpened, and she felt as if she were looking straight through him. Something tiny and dark, something that already had set it's roots deep within his psyche, shriveled up and died. Before she could really think about it, her vision went back to normal and she was looking at her Draco again.

The tips of his ears were red, and his mouth was twisted down a little at the corners. He was holding himself together better than she expected. She had forgotten how he handled his upset at this age. He held everything in, and those who dared to cross him soon found him targeting their weak spots.

"Do you think I'll end up like my father, Pans?" Draco asked. She blinked, feigning surprise. "I mean, like just a pawn for some Dark Lord?"

She sighed softly and crossed to sit in his chair so that their bodies were pressed close together. Draco wrapped an arm around her waist and tucked his face into the crook of her neck, and she just held him even tighter.

"You're nothing like him Dray, you'll be so much better."

_I'll make sure of it_

* * *

TOF

* * *

After their conversation it was much easier for Pansy to talk to Draco about previously unspoken matters.

_Dear Pansy,_

_I've been thinking a lot about what we talked about, and also have been reading up on the historical records from the time of the first war. I've even delved into when Grindelwald was in power, and back when the Hogwarts founders were about._

_Did you know that Slytherin didn't actually hate muggleborns? Well, he did and he didn't. It seems like he hated more what they represented. Witch hunters were much bigger back then, and he feared that letting in muggleborn students would expose everyone else to their world and in turn, hunters._

_That's also part of the reason why, despite the other founders misgivings, Gryffindor gave the sorting hat the power to see into the deepest recesses of our minds instead of just our surface personality traits. He thought that the hat would be able to warn them if a hunter was coming for them. I guess that it didn't really work out all that well in the case of the Dark Lord, but then again he was our age back then and knew next to nothing about the wizarding world, so it isn't as if he could have had extensive plans of world domination back then. There are also some records that may indicate that the hat is spelled for secrecy except in certain situations._

_Gryffindor also wanted the muggleborns educated separately from everyone else because there was no way they'd be on the same level as everyone who grew up in the wizarding world, which is a good point. I mean, they don't exactly teach us about the exchange rates between galleons and whatever they use or how to use the floo at Hogwarts now do they? The muggleborns are just expected to know everything we do then go on to prosper. Sounds like some shite to me._

_-Draco_

Pansy laughed lightly. She'd forgotten what a good little researcher Draco could be. It didn't take long for her to write back.

_Dear Draco,_

_I never knew about the whole Slytherin thing. Now that I think about it, it makes a lot more sense why there is so much fear about them coming in and ruining our world._

_But then again, that entire ideal is still very true today, even in places that are supposedly unbiased, like the ministry. We aren't supposed to use magic outside of school, yet they can't really tell who's doing magic in magical households, so that means the kids are allowed to practice all the want. That puts muggleborns at a severe disadvantage, and they only put the rule into place in 1979 under the influence of The Dark Lord, since he knew that._

_Do you know when you're going shopping for school supplies?_

_-Pansy_

She got a reply back within the hour.

_Dear Pansy,_

_Father said he'll take me the 31st of July. You should come with us, so it won't be so boring. Your family can come as well, but if they wish they can send you on your own. I know your father is a very busy man._

- _Draco_

_Dear Draco,_

_I would be most delighted to come with you. My parents, of course, think it's the perfect opportunity for me to show just how perfect we are for each other._

_-Pansy_

* * *

TOF

* * *

Pansy was a lot of things. Smart, resourceful, cunning, and loyal. Two things she definitely wasn't, though, were humble and patient, and she typically had no regrets about this.

However, she was wishing she had just a little more patience right then as she wished for the Malfoys to get their fucking hoity toity arses down to this goddamn alley.

Her father had already given her much more money than she would even need out of their vast vault, and now she just had to wait for the Malfoys. Technically they weren't late, but she still wished for them to just hurry up already.

Maybe it was because she didn't know what time Potter was scheduled to walk into Madame Malkins. She knew that that meeting with Draco that he had recounted in faked nonchalance over and over to her over the years was what really had initially pitted Harry against the Slytherins, and if she wanted the faintest hope of Potter helping to save their families then she would have to ensure that the relationship got off to a good start.

Pansy shuddered ever so lightly at the idea of defecting to the light and being under Dumbledore's rule. Everyone with half a brain knew that the old man was a manipulative old coot who would stop at nothing to make sure everything played out the way he wanted it. He was a Light Lord after all, and Lords were inherently a bit manipulative. She knew that under him she wouldn't be able to flourish as she had before as a Dark Witch.

Dark Magic wasn't inherently bad, just as Light Magic wasn't inherently good. That was a lesson everyone learned during the war as lines began to blur. A hard lesson.

She was shaken out of her thoughts by the sight of gleaming blonde hair approaching. The Malfoys had finally arrived...and then almost immediately abandoned the two in the robe shop.

It couldn't be that easy

Malkins let the two climb up on the platforms and began measuring them for their robes and reviewing fabric swatches with them. Pansy had just chosen a lovely shade of black when the bell rang over the door.

Oh yes, it was that easy.

Pansy held in a gasp at just how little Potter looked. He was practically swimming in dirty, stained, ragged clothes. He was all dark messy hair and big green eyes and Pansy just wanted to hold him and pet him.

Potter was scrawny for his age, despite the fact that she knew both of his parents were tall and healthy. A little twinge of sadness went through her.

Potter was directed to the platform next to hers. She aimed what she hoped to be a nice smile at him.

"Hello, Hogwarts too?" she asked softly. Potter looked at her with faint surprise, but she could see the hunger in his eyes for human interaction. It was the same hunger she saw in Draco from time to time. Draco who had so few friends and was so often kept up in his house for long periods of time to study.

"Yes," He said shortly. She could see he was rummaging about for something else to say, so she took the initiative.

"I'm Pansy, and this is my friend Draco," Pansy said, waving her hand over to where the blonde boy stood staring at Potter as if he was some sort of specimen. He had a familiar gleam in his eyes.

"I'm Harry." The boy said. Once again he seemed to be scrambling for something else to say, and Pansy had to wonder just how much time Potter got to spend interacting with other children before he came to Hogwarts. It was interesting how shy and sweet he was now, she noted with amusement. By the time they were thirteen he was more than a bit of an arsehole.

"So Harry, what house do you think you'll be in?" Draco asked carefully. He was assessing him, she knew, the way their parents had always taught them how.

"Uh, house?" Harry asked, confusion evident in his tone. A flash of realization light up Draco's eyes, and Pansy just hoped he wouldn't screw this up.

"Ah, are you a muggleborn?" He asked in barely contained excitement. At his confused expression Draco added, "Are your parents non magical?"

"Oh, no. My parents are both magic, but they died when I was young. I've been raised by muggles though." Harry explained. Then he flinched as if he thought they wouldn't want to talk to him anymore just because he didn't know as much as they did. Pansy knew that Draco still remained just as much of a sarcastic, pompous, vain, self centered jerk as he was before, but his extensive research had led him to more sympathy towards blood status, and she hoped that that and his inherently good nature would capture Harry.

"Oh, that's a shame." Or maybe not. Draco looked at Potter with genuine sympathy, and Pansy wondered what he was up to.

"Really, why?" Harry asked a bit warily. Draco lit up again as if he had just been waiting for Harry to ask exactly that.

"I was reading and I found this fascinating study on magical children and the presence of magic in early development. Magical babies naturally want to be around more magic, and their families elemental leanings often influence their childs. Muggleborn children often feel out of place their entire lives until they come to school and are often much more fussy babies because they feel that absence of magic." Draco said excitedly.

_Ah, his know it all side has kicked in. Interesting._

Harry seemed properly interested, and they passed questions back and forth even after Pansy and Draco were finished with their robes. Pansy thought she could imagine little sparks of light setting off inside of Harry, letting off a warm glow.

"There are four houses, named after the four founders. Hufflepuff, Slytherin, Gryffindor, and Ravenclaw." Draco explained. Harry nodded along, obviously not quite knowing what was going on but bravely playing along. Pansy took pity.

"Each house is modeled after a certain trait the founders found especially important. Lady Hufflepuff found that being hardworking was the most important. Lord Gryffindor valued bravery."

Draco nodded in agreement. "Lord Slytherin loved those who had ambition and Lady Ravenclaw favored those who wanted to pursue knowledge."

Harry seemed to be mulling this over in his head. Pansy couldn't help looking at him and feeling as if she wanted to just run a good comb through his hair. Madame Malkin chose that moment to pipe up.

"I was a Slytherin myself. Good house that." she commented. At Harry's look, she elaborated. "Slytherins, the ones not already from wealthy houses anyway, tend to go on to become business owners and politicians. There's a reason why it's the house of ambition."

Harry nodded, and for awhile they all talked and joked about Hogwarts and the houses. Draco seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself, she noticed. She hoped this would be the start of a beautiful friendship. It seemed like Harry was the type to need some coddling, which Pansy was happy to provide.

"Oh, Hagrid's come back to get me." Harry said with a note of disappointment in his voice. Pansy felt herself become a little bereft too. The half-giant was holding two giant stacks of ice cream, and Pansy could see Draco sneering at his choice of clothing.

"Well we have to go anyway, don't we Draco?" Pansy said, tugging on his sleeve. He nodded solemnly, and turned back to Harry.

"Do you have an owl?" When Harry shook his head no, Draco said it didn't matter, his owl would find him anyway, and he and Pansy would write him for the rest of the summer.

"We could teach you a little something about the wizard world." Draco said with his old superior smirk, but thankfully Harry seemed to find it amusing instead of twatish and wished them both a good day.


	3. Ms Granger

After shopping and meeting a younger Harry Potter, Pansy wasn't quite sure what to do with herself for the month leading up to school.

She could read her textbooks, but she had already mastered all of the material. They were pretty basic, simply laying the groundwork for all of the amazing magic they would learn. She could train to fight the Dark Lord, she guessed, but she wouldn't be able to do that until she went through the Parkinson library to see if there was anything she could learn.

Purebloods all usually lived far from each other, and she didn't know any mug-

Wait.

Pansy grabbed a piece of parchment and began writing.

_Dear Hermione Granger,_

_Hello, my name is Pansy Parkinson. You don't know me, but I'm going to be in your year at Hogwarts. I was raised by a wizarding family. I'm a pureblood, which means that my parents are both wizards and both of their parents are pureblood wizards, and so on and so forth._

_Anyway, just know that I'm here and am free and open to any communication. I know a lot about magic and magical history._

_I hope this letter finds you in good health._

_Yours, Pansy Parkinson_

Pansy looked at the letter and bit her lip. She knew it was inevitable that she'd tell a couple people her secret during her upcoming years at Hogwarts, and Granger was brilliant. She'd make a good ally, plus Potter seemed to like her. So, if she was close with at least two out of the three, then her job to save her friends would be made that much easier. She then thought for another moment, and then pulled out another piece of parchment and started on another letter.

* * *

TOF

* * *

_Dear Pansy Parkinson,_

_I would've asked if you were actually a witch like you said, however the letter was delivered by an owl, so I believe that you're a credible enough source._

_Despite that, how do you know who I am? As far as I've read, the school does not supply a ready list of all of the students bound to attend that year due to safety concerns._

_-Hermione Granger_

_Dear Granger,_

_I overheard Professor McGonagall in Diagon. She was talking to another Muggleborn by the name of Justin something I believe, and she was listing off to him the others of his kind. She mentioned that you were bright, so I decided to write to you. Bright people tend to be hungry for knowledge, and there isn't a lot of introductory material to our world._

_Have you thought about what house you would like to be in?_

_-Parkinson_

_Dear Parkinson,_

_That sounds reasonable. I have thought, and I believe I would like to be in Gryffindor, though Ravenclaw would be alright as well. Besides the fact I think I would like the general atmosphere, they're both in towers. I would love a room with a view. Both Slytherin and Hufflepuff are located underground, though apparently Hufflepuff is rumored to be located right next to the kitchens._

_-Granger_

_Dear Granger,_

_I think I would be in Slytherin. It's a bit of a family tradition in many of the noble pureblood families, so it would be a good fit for me. Plus, those in Slytherin are supposed to be cunning, clever, shrewd, and ambitious, and I know that I am all of those things. Not to mention the positions of success they usually achieve._

_Have you began reading your textbooks yet? I would have to say that my favorite so far is my Charms book. Though it's mainly theory right now, how charms are made in themselves are so fascinating._

_-Parkinson_

_Dear Parkinson,_

_Really, Slytherin? I've read that it has a sort of disreputable sort of air about it, and that it's turned out many Dark witches and wizards._

_Yes I have began reading my textbooks, and they're all so interesting I just can't pick a favorite. Charms, of course, looks great. So does Transfiguration. I feel as though Potions is incredible. How can something require so little magic yet be so powerful? It requires more cleverness and common sense than anything, and I appreciate that a lot._

_-Hermione_

_Dear Hermione,_

_Honestly, I wouldn't have thought that you of all people wouldn't have participated in such ignorance to believe that your house or your magic would make you innately evil. Here in wizarding society there is a stigma about you as well as a Muggleborn. That you're less powerful, less intelligent, less "worthy" of wizarding by virtue of who your parents are._

_Quite honestly, I would prefer to judge someone not because of their House, or their blood, but by their actions. It would be well for you to do the same, considering the many assumptions that will be made about you. For some people, you'll have to do a lot in order to prove yourself as more than someone with dirty blood or as their token muggleborn friend._

_-Pansy_

_Dear Pansy,_

_I am genuinely sorry to have offended you and to have had judged your house. Or well, I guess not quite your house, but the house of your parents whom I'm sure are lovely people._

_Also, I'd like to thank you for telling me about the discrimination of muggleborns. I've read about it in my books, however, they all seem to gloss over the subject._

_I'm sorry I made you mad, because you're my friend, and my first friend from the magical world. I don't exactly have a lot of people to talk to here at home. Everyone thinks I'm weird because I like to read a lot. I would hate to lose you._

_-Hermione_

_Dear Hermione,_

_Would you like to get some ice cream? There this great little place in Diagon Alley._

_-Pansy_

_Dear Pansy_

_I would love to! How does August 20th sound? Around noon?_

_-Hermione_

_Dear Hermione_

_Great. I'll see you there._

_-Pansy_

* * *

TOF

* * *

August 20th was a balmy sort of day. For a moment Pansy dreamed of the short sleeved t shirts and jean shorts she so favored in the future. They would certainly be more comfortable than the robes she wore now. She couldn't wait to go to Hogwarts and take full advantage of the blouses and skirts the teachers had them wear under their robes.

She stepped into Fortescue's with relief apparent on her face. The significantly cooler air made the place feel like pure paradise. Looking around, she quickly spotted a young girl around her age.

Granger looked different than when she had last saw her. She was used to the hardened lines that carved her face. Her bushy hair had long ago been cropped off, and her body was lean and toned from years of hard fighting on the font lines.

This little girl was...little. There was an air of all too familiar meekness that seemed to settle around her shoulders like a heavy shawl. Her bushy hair was wild and loose, and Pansy had forgotten about those horrid buckteeth the girl used to sport.

She set her shoulders, and with a flick of her hair strode over to where the other girl was sitting.

"Hello, you must be Hermione. I'm Pansy Parkinson." She declared, sticking out her hand imperiously. Hermione jumped a bit at her sudden introduction, but she shook her hand with a pathetically weak grip. She'd work on that, Pansy thought.

"Yes, hello." the bushy haired girl replied eagerly. She nervously smoothed out her shirt and gestured to the seat for Pansy to sit down. Pansy bit back a smile and sat down in the cushy seat, primly folding her hands on her lap. Hermione looked back nervously, and for a moment they sat looking at each other in an awkward silence.

"So," Pansy began, "Read any good books lately?"

The girl lit up, and Pansy knew this was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

* * *

TOF

* * *

"Ready, Pansy dear?" Her mother asked, her hand warm and strong on her shoulder. She unconsciously leaned into her. Pansy had been doing a lot of that recently. She couldn't help but crave the presence of her mom, especially after experiencing the weak shell of a woman she would become. She was cold, she could be ruthless, but her mother had not stopped loving her yet.

"I'm ready Mother."

Her father smiled and led them all through the barrier separating them from Platform 9 3/4.

Pansy was almost knocked over by the abundance of young, positive magic present on the platform. Faces, some of which she hadn't seen for years, some of which died incredibly painful deaths right in front of her, now passed her full of life and exuberance.

A spike of terror lodged itself in her heart. For perhaps the first time, she truly appreciated the magnitude of the task she had undertaken. She was trying to change Time, arguably the most powerful force in all of existence. Some of the faces she saw, she knew, would die. A million decisions went into what had eventually happened in her timeline, and all she could hope to do was save as many as she could.

Her mother nudged her onward, and her father lifted her trunk with all of her belongings into the trains luggage section. Hoping to avoid others for just a moment to collect her thoughts, she hugged her parents goodbye and got onto the train to find an empty compartment.

Pansy knew she would not be alone for long, as the other future Slytherin first years would be looking for her and she had told Hermione how to get onto the Platform and to come find her as soon as she could.

Pansy decided to spend her time reading a book on brain structure and development. In the future during her NEWT year she had been studying to become a Healer before everything had gone to hell. If all went well, maybe in ten years or so she'd be working in Mungo's, perhaps with a boyfriend and a lot of friends, wine in her fridge and a soft pillow on her bed.

It was the simple things she wished for the most.

A knock came at the compartment door, and it slid open to reveal a little pale face with a spattering of freckles and bushy hair.

"Hermione." Pansy said, a small smile crossing her face. Hermione seemed to sigh and relief, and the door opened further to reveal an all too familiar face. Neville Longbottom.

Pansy felt her smile slip, then replaced it in full force. She could do this, she could. All she had to do was replace the image of his dead eyes with how he was now; chubby, afraid, and very, very alive.

"Scion Longbottom, it's a pleasure to see you. I trust your grandmother is doing well?" Pansy asked. She took the time to stand from her seat, bookmark her book, and sink into a low curtsy. Longbottom seemed surprised, but fell into the same pleasantries.

"It is nice to see you as well, Scion Parkinson. Yes, she's doing great. I wish your parents many blessings." He replied, sinking into a deep bow. Pansy smiled prettily at him, and he seemed to relax somewhat.

"Please, sit down." Pansy said, picking up her book and shifting over to the window. Hermione sat across from her, and Neville sat down next to Pansy, nervously folding his hands in his lap.

Pansy frowned, and slid her hand over to Longbottoms to give him a squeeze. The last bit of nervousness seemed to leech away, and he leaned back into his seat. Hermione gave her a confused look, which Pansy ignored in favor of resolving to explain it to the girl later.

Before Hermione could say anything, the door was knocked on again, then slid open to reveal another familiar face.

"Hello, Theodore." Pansy greeted. It was a shock to see him as well, but int the original timeline Theo had been dead a couple years already. It was more of a relief to see him. Theodore nodded once at her and kissed her knuckles in respect to her position. He nodded at Longbottom, then tilted his head questioningly at Hermione.

"This is my friend, Hermione Granger." Pansy explained, crossing over to put her hand on the girls shoulder. No further explanation was needed, at least for the moment. Theodore sat next to Hermione, then pulled out a book without saying a word.

There was a moment of complete silence while Pansy tried to stifle her laughs and Hermione looked confused.

"Pansy." Theodore finally said in a slightly inquiring tone.

"I already thought of that Theo." Pansy said. She arranged her face into that of a first year trying their hardest to do a complicated spell. However, to be fair, it was a very complicated spell.

_"Expando."_ She murmured. The bench shook for a moment, then the compartment seemed to grow several feet in all directions. Theo seemed to have a look of satisfaction.

"That was amazing." Hermione exclaimed. "I've barely had the chance to see any real magic."

"Well, you'll get a million once we get to school," Pansy said, barely able to keep a snooty tone out of her voice.

The door opened again, this time with Greg, Vince, Millie, and Daphne. At a single look from Theo and Pansy, they all seemed content to ignore Hermione, though everyone extended their respects to Longbottom.

Tracey Davis. Blaise.

"Pansy." Blaise said. She rose to give him a hug, then handed him his journal.

"You seemed to have left this at my house the last time you visited." She said innocently. He narrowed his eyes slightly, but took it with no hesitation.

Draco.

"I heard Harry Potter was on the train. Someone even thinks they know the compartment." Draco said, his face flush with excitement.

"We should go look for him. He's in so many of my books." Hermione said innocently. Draco's eyes lit up while Daphne tittered meanly behind her hand. Pansy shot her a look and Daphne stopped immediately.

"We'll go with you." Pansy declared. Neville rose with her, as well as Hernione, Vince, and Greg. The others stayed behind, either too uninterested or too cowed by Pansy's abrupt shut down of Daphne.

They walked outside their compartment and Draco began eagerly leading them to where he heard Harry Potter was staying. The small entourage made their way down the car, Pansy or Draco occasionally extending their greeting to those whom they knew. A special smile was given towards a confused Hannah Abbott, who nevertheless smiled back.

_Her pigtails are absolutely ridiculous,_ asmall petty piece of Pansy whispered in her ear.

Eventually, they reached the fabled compartment, and Pansy could actually see Draco compose himself into the image of pureblood nobility before they opened the door.

They slid the door open, and there sat Ron Weasley and Harry, talking over a mountain of sweets.

"Harry!" Draco exclaimed, surprised, "You're Harry Potter?" Then his expression of surprise turned into one of petulance. "You didn't reply to my owls."

"Sorry Draco," Harry said, looking a bit sheepish. "My family isn't quite comfortable with magic."

Draco seemed to accept this, then smiled a little bit. "Well then I guess we should properly introduce ourselves then. I'm Draco Malfoy." He said, shameless pride oozing out of every pore.

Weasley snickered, and Draco's expression darkened.

"Think my names funny do you-" Draco's tirade was stopped by Pansy's cautioned hand on his shoulder.

"I bet Harry just didn't write you back because he didn't want to be associated with Death Eater scum!" Weasley retorted with obvious pleasure.

"Apologize," a quiet voice came from the back of the group. Hermione powered her way through the purebloods surrounding her to stand by Draco's side and fixed Weasley with a glare that Pansy was very impressed by.

"And who are you?" Weasley demanded. Hermione tilted her head up and responded with a sniff worthy of any pureblood.

"I'm Hermione Granger."

Weasley burst out laughing. "A muggleborn? Hanging out with the Death Eaters like a little pet? I'm surprised they haven't torn you apart yet."

Hermione just smirked, and Pansy took a spot sitting next to a stricken Harry, interested to see where this was going to go.

"I'm surprised you haven't. I know who you are. You're a Weasley, aren't you? I read about your family in my books about pureblood lines. Signature red hair, millions of freckles, hand me down clothes from all of the money you lost during Grindelwalds war."

"You don't know anything about me or my family!" Weasley said, rising from his seat.

"Oh, I don't?" Hermione retorted, not backing down an inch. "You're one of the _Sacred Twenty Eight_. You weren't pro muggleborns until after Grindelwalds war. Do you know just how long you have to stay pure in order to make it to that list? The Potters, the Crabbes, the Prince's, and the Lovegoods didn't make it onto that list just because they had indisputable proof of at least one family member having a _dalliance_ with a muggle.

"You are the worst sort of hypocrite, trying to condemn Draco for sins of the family, when yours used to be known as The Red Death."

Pansy blinked. Well damn. That was almost equal to any take down she could manage.

Everyone else in the compartment was silent until Hermione spoke up again.

"Now apologize, for making fun of his name, and blaming him for the sins of his family."

Weasley's face was bright red, his freckles almost disappearing. He cleared his throat and smacked his dry lips, then muttered something under his breath.

"What was that?" Hermione demanded, leaning over to hear him better.

"I'm sorry." He said, a bite to his words that didn't go without notice. Hermione didn't push him any further, seeming satisfied with his response. Pansy was satisfied as well, as well as a little amused. She had forgotten how irritating Weasley was when he was younger.

Harry was still sitting by her side, completely silent, and Draco seemed awestruck.

"Well." Pansy said, smiling brightly at everyone. Draco raised a brow at he lack of a sneer. "Greg, Vince, you two can go back to the compartment. We'll stay in here and catch up with Harry. Oh Hermione, I've been dying to introduce you to him."

The other children eagerly followed her demands, grateful to have someone take charge after the shattering change of events. Neville slid into the seat next to her, and Hermione sat next to a shamefaced Weasley, who looked eager to put his embarrassment behind him.

Oh, wizards. Always so ashamed to have been bested by a witch.

"So," Weasley said, "Anyone enjoy Quidditch? Harry barely knows _anything_ about it."

The others boys automatically perked up, and Pansy smiled.

* * *

TOF

* * *

Though she didn't quite know how, Pansy ended up in a boat with Millie, Weasley, and Longbottom. Draco had disappeared with Hermione and Harry, and Pansy couldn't help the little ping of jealousy that went through her. _She_ was Draco's best friend, after all.

The others on the boat didn't quite know what to do. Millie was staring at Weasley with a calculating look in her eye, and Longbottom seemed to have decided Pansy was his island of safety with how close he stayed to her. Not that Pansy minded too much. The man saved her life in the future, the least she could do was take care of him.

As the bus floated along, Millie caught Pansy's eye. Pansy knew Millie was asking her permission to speak candidly to someone Pansy had, willingly or not, claimed as her own. Pansy nodded slightly, enough so that Weasley caught it and braced himself. Interesting. His family, blood traitors they were, still taught their children some of the pureblood customs.

"Weasley, I noticed that you've managed to come into the association of the Scion Parkinson despite the fact you're from a family of notorious blood traitors. How did this come to be?"

Pansy pasted a bland smile onto her face. Millicent's tone was entirely innocent, however Pansy couldn't miss the cold, calculating look in her eye. Millicent didn't much like outsiders, and there wasn't much more outside than a Weasley. He stiffened a bit.

"Yes, we were introduced when she came by to speak with the Scion Potter." Pansy didn't let the surprise show on her face, but she did tip her head inquiringly. He had spat the words out. There were teeth behind his words.

"And what are your intentions? Your family has had nothing but negative relations with the rest of proper society since Grindelwald's war when you lost all of your money."

Pansy saw Weasley's hand grip the bench tightly, but he responded in a polite, quiet voice.

"I hope that we can once again build up an alliance in this new world and new order."

A huge smile blossomed across Pansy's face. A perfect pureblood response, meaning that that he was open to a new friendship, as long as they realized that things wouldn't be like how they were before. Namely, blood discrimination was out of fashion. As long as he could get over that attitude, maybe they would be fine.

Millie gave a small nod, and went back into a silence that only lasted until their boat crossed under the bridge and Hogwarts came into sight.

"Wow." Neville breathed.

The castle was nothing like it was in the future. Whole and glorious, she could see the magic that swirled over it's ancient bricks. Inside would be danger and adventure, along with a healthy dose of discrimination. However there was also home. Warm fires in the common room and good food on the table. Libraries full of knowledge, and time to change things for the better.

The boats pulled up to the shore and the students clambered out, nervous and shaking in anticipation of the upcoming Sorting. Pansy squinted and looked around for a familiar head of platinum blonde. She couldn't spot him anywhere, and was beginning to get a bit worried. What if he had fallen into the lake?

A warm pair of skinny arms hugged her from the behind, and she whirled around to smack Draco lightly on the shoulder.

"You idiot, you had me worried you had been eaten by the Giant Squid."

Draco just grinned, and she saw behind him he had towed along Harry, Hermione, and Blaise.

Blaise caught her eye and gave her a knowing look. She gifted him with a light smile before returning her attention to the others. Pansy could deal with his inevitable questions later.

McGonagall appeared to lead them all to the Sorting, and Pansy led her friends with a spring in her step.


	4. Arbitrary Boxes

Somehow the first sight of the Sorting Hat didn't get any less intimidating with age. Pansy looked around the Hall, taking in the beauty of seeing everything whole. Oddly enough seeing the building intact was even more intimidating than seeing everyone alive. People died one by one around her in the Wars. It was systematic, it was expected. But Hogwarts had fallen in a day and despite attempts to the contrary, stayed that way. No one expected that.

Pansy thought she could almost smell the putrid scent of the nervous sweat her classmates exuded. Unlike the first time, she actually took the time to look at the faces of the upperclassmen. She saw many bored faces, some smirking, some expectant. Those who had younger siblings among the first years seemed to be trying to get their attention in overly obnoxious ways.

She'd discovered over the years that the Slytherin table was a study in contradictions. Some were full of an understandable disdain, others foolish hope. At their core they all wanted one thing; a class, a few, a single student who would bring redemption and show Slytherin without a doubt wasn't evil. Prejudiced gits yes, but not evil.

It was funny how she had used to wish for the same thing. Validation, the ultimate ambition.

Her classmates were waiting with rapt attention, seemingly all discerning the meaning of the hat right away. Now that she thought about it, wasn't it odd that a group of usually quite inattentive and frankly sometimes moronic eleven-year-olds would immediately figure out the purpose of an otherwise completely innocuous object?

Pansy blinked. Now where had that come from?

Without much preamble, the Sorting Hat opened it's rip of a mouth and began to sing.

_Oh you may not think I'm pretty,_   
_But don't judge on what you see,_   
_I'll eat myself if you can find_   
_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_   
_Your top hats sleek and tall,_   
_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_   
_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head or time_   
_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

Pansy, who had been somewhat ambivalent about listening up until then, suddenly stood at full attention. Wait, what did it just say?

_So try me on and I will tell you_   
_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_   
_Where dwell the brave at heart,_   
_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_   
_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_However you must be careful_   
_To know when true bravery looks you in the eye_   
_For the innate foolishness that comes with courage_   
_Has lead to some's demise_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_   
_Where they are just and loyal,_   
_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_   
_And unafraid of toil;_

_A fair warning to those in Hufflepuff_   
_Loyalty comes at a cost_   
_Know that those you're loyal to_   
_May at times look to be lost_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_   
_if you've a ready mind,_   
_Where those of wit and learning,_   
_Will always find their kind;_

_They must never think their cleverness_  
 _Is a type of salve_  
For the coldness of the heart  
That some with intelligence have

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_   
_You'll make your real friends,_   
_Those cunning folks use any means_   
_To achieve their ends._

_For you I have only one warning_  
That I want you to take heed  
You may find the solution for your problem  
In accepting those not of your breed

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_   
_And don't get in a flap!_   
_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_   
_For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

The Hall burst into confused applause. Pansy smirked. It was never amiss, to her at least, to individually point out in a very public way how each house was a little shit. Especially when there could be no consequences. After all, what could you do to an ancient hat created by the Founders themselves?

Professor McGonagall gave a tiny little sniff, no doubt offended by the insinuation that her precious house didn't know courage when it stared them in the face. Pansy felt no pity. The only way to fix your flaws was to know them. Unless, of course, there was no need to fix them.

Professor McGonagall pulled out the old scroll that held the names of the children around her and issued some quick instructions. With how nervous everyone around her was, there was no doubt in Pansy's mind that they needed to be told how to sit on a stool and put on a hat.

"Abbott, Hannah"

A couple seconds passed before the hat declared,

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The little blond girl went scampering towards the cheering table of yellow and black to the sound of their cheers. Pansy squinted. A weirdly familiar boy she couldn't quite put her finger on sat there as well.

"Bones, Susan"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Boot, Terry"

"RAVENCLAW!"

Now the table of blue and bronze cheered, and on the sorting went. Pansy had to catch herself from tapping her finger on her thigh in a sort of anxious boredom.

"Granger, Hermione"

Hermione gave out a little sort of squeak and looked at Pansy in a panic. She gave the bushy haired girl a little shove, and Hermione scampered up to the stool. The hat drooped over her head, and all was quiet.

Unlike most of the other sortings, Hermione sat under for what seemed to be forever. Pansy could see the girl fiercely arguing against whatever voice was whispering in her ear.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Slytherin clapped politely, while Gryffindor gave their customary boos. Hermione held her head high, a steely glint in her eyes as she moved over to sit at the table of green and silver. Pansy noted McGonagall's look of surprise and for once she couldn't help but agree with her. What had she changed to cause Hermione to switch houses like that?

"Should have known she was a slimy little snake, the way she talked to me." Ron muttered. Pansy restrained the urge to punch him in the face. Merlin, his family had fallen far.

"Malfoy, Draco"

The pale boy swaggered up to the stool. Though his sorting wasn't as instantaneous, he soon joined Hermione at the Slytherin table. Hermione looked incredibly relieved, and they bent their heads together. When they spotted her, they shot her matching encouraging smiles. A weird warm feeling spread in her chest.

"Parkinson, Pansy"

Pansy flounced up to take her spot on the stool. The last thing she saw before the rim covered her eyes was the eyes of her school, all staring at her expectantly.

_Hello Pansy, it's so nice to see you again. My, so different and still the same._

Pansy jumped before she could catch herself. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you can see the future. You're a hat with a conscious after all."

_I am sentient, yes, but my ability to tell the future isn't as straightforward as you would believe. Godric Gryffindor gave me the ability to see potential, and that stretches to all things._

"So why didn't you stop the Dark Lord?" Pansy thought with more than a little anger.

_Do you know how many potential Lords pass under me? So many children have what it takes; the work potential, the fierceness, the ambition, the little seed in that heart that tells them they could do great things. Some have it a little more than others, and I see maybe one every ten years or so who if they really wanted to they could take it all the way._

_Of course, some houses are better at turning out Lords than others. Hufflepuff and Slytherin are good for that. Those are the houses that really foster work ethic. You yourself could be a Lady, you have that bitterness that really seems to get so many of them going._

"I am  _not_ bitter."

_What is it you used to call yourself? The Girl Who-_

"Shut up you dirty little hat. You know _nothing_ about me."

_Ah, touchy. Have you noticed how you're reverting back to your old self yet?_

"What?"

_So oblivious. What do you think has been happening to you lately? You didn't just replace the girl who's already in here, you joined her. You_ are _her. After all, nothing physical came back with you._

"What does that mean?"

_Oh, I don't know, I'm just a dirty little hat. Thank you for liking my song by the way. Those revisions were just for you. I suppose it's time to sort you now. You'd be a good fit for any of them, so let's narrow it down. Well, we can take out Ravenclaw, you rarely pursue knowledge for its own sake._

"What are you doing? Just place me in Slytherin like I belong."

_That's for me to decide. We can take out Hufflepuff I guess. You'd be good there, yet your potential to do what you need to do goes down a bit._

"I'd be good there?"

_I can't say much for your disdain of hard work unless absolutely necessary. Plus you really aren't that nice. However, you're incredibly loyal. You love more than you let others know. Well, that leaves Gryffindor and Slytherin._

"Gryffindor?"

_It can't be denied that it's brave, if a bit rash and foolish, to risk ripping apart time and space for all you know to save others._

"But I'm a Slytherin!"

_Through and through. But maybe you need a bit of a change to let another side of you shine through. Watch out for Fate's Gift. Better be GRYFFINDOR_

Distantly, Pansy heard the Hat's voice ring throughout the Hall only to be met with complete silence. McGonagall gently pulled the Hat off of her head, leaving her in plain sight of the disappointed looks of Hermione and Draco. Although, to be fair, the incredulous stares of Weasley and Daphne would have been quite amusing if she were in the proper mood. A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth. Pansy thought she could feel the burn of tears behind her eyes.

_Don't let them see you weak my flower. They'll take any opportunity to crush your petals._

Her mother's voice reinforced something in her. Her spine went rigid and straight, she brushed the invisible dust off of her skirt, and Pansy carried herself to the unwelcoming Gryffindor table with the grace of a queen.

She chose the side that deliberately faced away from the frowning Slytherin table, and her new housemates reluctantly moved over to give her room on the bench.

"Patil, Padma"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Patil, Parvati"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Parvati slid into the spot between her and Brown and gave Pansy the first true smile she had seen at that table.

"Pansy, I didn't expect to see us in the same house." Parvati said with genuine warmth. Parvati had always been way better at that than Pansy. She was also great at reading people's emotions, which explained why she covertly slid her hand over to grips Pansy's. Neville gave her a reassuring smile from across the table.

Pansy snorted internally. Being comforted by an eleven year old Longbottom was not what she expected when she came back.

"Perks, Sally Anne"

"GRYFFINDOR"

Pansy felt as if a bucket of ice cold water had been poured down her spine. What had she done?

_What had she done?_

There was absolutely _no_ reason Sally Anne Perks should have been in Gryffindor. The girl was a Hufflepuff Pansy hadn't even had any contact with her. Now that she thought about it, she had never had any contact with the girl except the one time Perks had helped her in third year when she knocked over a large stack of books.

The mousy, bespeckled girl slid into the spot between Neville and Finnegan. Her tiny little hands folded in her lap, and when she didn't bother to give anyone a greeting they all seemed content to completely ignore her, except for Pansy.

"Potter, Harry"

"GRYFFINDOR"

Harry plopped down at her side with a wide smile. His green eyes were sparkling so much that she immediately forgot about the odd occurrence that was Sally Anne Perks.

"Isn't this great Pansy? Though I kinda wish Draco was with us." Harry enthused at her side.

Weasley soon joined the table, and after Blaise went into Slytherin the old man rose to give the beginning of the year speech. Pansy could feel the power rippling off of the man. It seemed to want to push and pull her like the tide of an ocean. For a moment she could imagine it as waves of light reaching into the students.

She had never liked Dumbledore. There was a part of Pansy who had to begrudgingly respect the man. He was the defeater of Grindelwald, held one of the most powerful positions in the international government, and still managed to run one of the top magic schools in the world.

However, he was also a mass manipulator who blatantly played favorites and never did anything for anyone without expecting something in return.

And yet then again, that all reminded her of her father, which made her kinda like him.

Dumbledore smiled benevolently over the crowd of excited students.

"Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you."

"Is he — a bit mad?" Harry asked in apparent confusion.

"Yes." Pansy replied at the same time as the pompous Weasley said "Mad? He's a genius

"Best wizard in the world!" Pansy said, with a bit of a condescending twist to her lips. Pompous Weasley glared at her, but he must have seen that for once she was truly sincere.

"But he is a bit mad, yes," he conceded, "Potatoes, Harry?"

The spread looked delicious, and Pansy realized she was completely ravenous. She hadn't eaten anything since breakfast that morning. She neatly served herself small portions of everything around her.

Meanwhile, Harry's eyes certainly served to be bigger than his stomach. He gave himself overly huge portions and couldn't even get most of it down. Not to mention when dessert showed up he looked as if he was going to vomit.

"Slow down, we're going to be fed again in the morning after all." Pansy teased, scooping a spoonful of peanut butter ice cream into her mouth. He groaned, and she laughed at the pained expression on his face.

"Merlin she's going to be a naggy terror." Pansy heard Finnegan say from a few spaces down the table.

"Yeah, if we were gonna get a wanna be Slytherin, why'd we have to get the ugly one bossy one?" Weasley replied.

The smile slipped from Pansy's face, and she looked blankly down at her melting ice cream. _I'm not eleven anymore_ , she reminded herself, _the words of some useless_ gits _aren't about to hurt me._

* * *

TOF

* * *

Despite the almost excessive efforts of Parvati, the other girls were simply not comfortable around Pansy. More than once she heard Lavender Brown mutter some variation of the words "Should've been in Slytherin."

The other three girls sat rather quietly. Fay Dunbar and Eloise Midgen sat in the corner with one another and whispered to each other. Sally Anne Perks disappeared almost immediately behind her bed curtains, and as she was right next to Pansy she occasionally heard a pathetic little sniff from the mousy girl.

It suddenly made a hell of a lot of sense why Pansy had barely even noticed the other two girls originally sorted into Gryffindor. They were the most cardboard cutout, bland, unoriginal girls she had ever seen in her life. If was if they were created simply to fill up the dorm. They were like tiny specks on a wall; clear enough if you looked directly at them, but if you took your eyes away for a moment it was hard to find enough focus to even want to spot them again. Well, at least Eloise was. Fay seemed to like Quidditch or something because that's all Pansy heard when she bothered to listen to her speak.

Brown and Parvati on the other had were two of the most vibrant people she had ever met. Girly, loud, bossy, tough, and unapologetic about it all.

They wasted no time in adorning the entire room in decorations that could be described as...extravagant. Parvati apparently believed she had the sight, and maybe she did, because all of the decorations she brought were red and gold. Gold elephants, red tapestries, the works. She even brought red and gold cashmere scarves that she gave to all of the girls. Pansy respected the girl for her taste.

All the while Pansy sat primly on her bed. Unlike the bland girls, she didn't get to just sit there without scrutiny. After Parvati finally stopped her attempts to include her, the others repeatedly shot her looks of confusion and distrust.

And it didn't get any better in the morning. The other girls all collected into a flock that seemed to have made the decision to keep far away from her, with the exception of Perks who floated away on her own. When the boys came down, Neville and Harry shot her guilty and suspicious looks before running off with the rest of the Gryffindor boys who were not stingy with their sneers.

By the time they finally arrived at the Hall, Pansy had had it. She separated from her so called 'house family' with a huff, and they all watched her walk away with no one attempting to make one move in stopping her.

Pansy shouldered her way through the crowd to sit at the Slytherin table in between Blaise and Draco. Wordlessly, and with a little more force than what was absolutely necessary, she began piling her plate with toast and jam. Pulling another dish towards her, she speared a few sausage links and dumped those on her plate too. Pansy ate with a dignified gusto before she realized that she was surrounded by complete silence.

"Um, Pans?" Blaise inquired. Pansy looked up from her plate to see the stunned and somewhat irritated faces of her classmate. The girls in particular eyed her with disgust. She rose her chin in defiance.

Pansy took her time answering, slowly putting down her fork, wiping off her mouth, folding up her napkin, and putting her hands in her lap. She tilted her head in feigned confusion.

"Yes?" she said, taking the time to look each of them in the eye.

"What are you doing here?" Blaise asked cautiously. Hermione was the only one who looked amused, a playful little smile playing around her lips and a twinkle in her eye.

"Why in the world would I want to sit with those Gryffindor prats?"

"Because you are one of them. Or at least now you are." Daphne said accusingly. Pansy was taken aback by the amount of venom in her words coming from one of her childhood playmates.

"Really Queenie, you're just going to turn against me like that because I live in a tower and you live down in the dungeons?" Pansy asked sweetly. Those who knew her well around the table tensed as the smile on Pansy's face became dangerous. A smile like that meant tread carefully. Daphne stood up a little straighter and refused to back down.

"Houses are _family_ Pansy, if you're in Slytherin you have no one else but other Slytherins. And when you eventually become all buddy buddy with them you're not going to want anything to do with us just like the rest of them." Daphne said. While her tone was angry and accusatory, Pansy didn't miss the little tremble of her bottom lip.

"Don't be silly Queenie, that's never going to happen and you know it." Pansy said, turning her attention back to her toast. "We've been nothing if not loyal to one another since the time we were five, and a house isn't going to change that. You _know_ me." Pansy emphasized, finally looking Daphne back in the eye.

Daphne bit her lip, and nodded. Daphne and Pansy were never close friends, but they were allies in a world that would hurt them. And Daphne knew that Pansy never turned her back on her allies. With the exception of Draco, they were the closest thing she had to friends.

The others went back to their food with little fanfare. They stumbled over her presence a couple times, but Pansy noticed that they accepted Hermione without question. It was true, when you were in Slytherin you didn't have anyone else. You watched out for your own in a school that wanted nothing more than to see you fail. Only the most extreme of pureblood supremacists would truly have a problem with her being there, and thankfully most of them didn't have kids.

Hermione nudged Pansy's foot under the table. Pansy looked up to see Hermione positively  _glowing,_ which frankly kind of creeped her out because why the hell was Hermione so freaking happy?

"Yes?" Pansy said.

"I'm just so happy, this means we can still be friends!" Hermione exclaimed quietly.

_Allies,_ Pansy corrected in her head, but she smiled at Hermione all the same. She looked over at Blaise. In the original timeline, Pansy and Blaise definitely _did not_ become true friends until they started their seventh year. Something about being surrounded by constant fear and torture really bonded people together, and there was no point when Slytherin house was closer. Then there were those three years after the war "ended", after they were acquitted and got an apartment together right at the edge of muggle and magical London.

But this Blaise was different. He was still spoiled and obsessed with blood purity. He also hadn't come into his inheritance yet. She would have to see if he had read his journal through yet.

"Miss Parkinson, what are you doing over here?"

Pansy turned to see McGonagall standing behind her, her face set in apparent confusion over just _why_ Pansy wouldn't want to sit over with her arrogant arsehole Gryffindor house members?

"I wasn't aware there was a rule against it Professor. I just really wanted to talk to my friends." Pansy said innocently. McGonagall raised her eyebrows, and Pansy continued staring at her with her eyes nice and wide. McGonagall finally huffed.

"Well I hope you make sure to continue to try and make friends with your new house members. Also, you weren't over there so I wasn't able to give you your schedule." McGonagall said, handing the slip of parchment over to her. Pansy scanned the parchment quickly, before bestowing McGonagall with her best megawatt-you're-not-going-to-be-able-to-put-shite-on-me-this-year-because-I-look-too-nice smile. There were a number of advantages and disadvantages for not fitting the beauty standard, and two of them were people assumed you were really mean because ugly equaled evil, or you were really nice to make up for the curse you bestowed on the world.

Pansy wasn't a good person, but teachers didn't need to know that. However, she knew at some point she'd slip up in front of McGonagall. She still hated her for her blatant favoritism towards the Gryffindors, the one house in the school who most definitely didn't need it. Just because she was one of them now, didn't mean she would forget where she came from.

McGonagall walked away, and Pansy really looked at her schedule past the quick scan she had done earlier. Wow, Gryffindor _barely_ associated with Ravenclaw. No wonder they didn't initially notice how Granger was just crushing them in the class rankings.

"Herbology with the Hufflepuffs." she read aloud, barely holding in her excitement. Great, one of her favorite subjects. Breakfast was coming to an end, so Pansy grabbed her leather satchel and stood to leave. The Slytherins were in a much better mood than when she first sat down, and they all gave her perfectly cordial goodbyes.

Draco smiled in that mean way she loved. "Go show those ridiculous wankers who's superior."

* * *

TOF

* * *

For some odd reason that Pansy definitely couldn't discern at all, not a single student from her house deigned to partner with her. Parvati was adhering to one of the more stupid girl codes, and Perks seemed terrified by her. Not even Neville and Harry, who were kept in by a tight rein clearly tied around their balls held by the rest of the Gryffindor boys. The older part of Pansy said that they were just eleven, they were being stupid. The younger part of Pansy said that they were her age, and their rejection hurt. All of her, because Pansy wasn't much one for forgiving, said that they were being cowardly gits. Who knew there was so much bravery missing from the house of courage?

"Parkinson, come sit with us."

Pansy looked to her right to see Hannah Abbott waving to her. Susan Bones sat by her side, and Pansy almost snorted. She had completely forgotten about those ridiculous bangs Susan used to have. Well, she would just have to convince the girl to switch it up.

She gratefully, though she didn't show it, sat down at their table with them as Professor Sprout began their lesson. Pansy pulled out the journal she had had her father transfigure into something that somewhat resembled a muggle notebook instead of a thick book. She found it was easier to write in and it stored easier in her bag.

"What's that?" Abbott whispered at her side.

"Just a transfigured journal. My dad made it look more like a muggle notebook. It's easier to write in this way, and I don't have to carry around a bunch of rolls."

If Abbott was in any way surprised at the fact Pansy even knew what a muggle notebook _was,_ it certainly didn't show on her face. Instead, she seemed fascinated.

"Do you think we could do something like that for me?" Abbott inquired politely. Pansy thought for a moment. She certainly wasn't opposed to the girl, and doing something that could be considered nice would certainly gain her an ally. Plus, once you had one Hufflepuff you basically had them all. She hadn't missed the looks of pure fear they had given her.

"Of course, Abbott. Order some journals and I'll practice the transfiguration. I'll even have my head of house help." Pansy replied in a crisp tone. Despite the completely business like reply, Abbott smiled warmly and went back to taking notes on basic safety in the greenhouse.

Pansy dared a look to her left. Ron Weasley sat there fixing her with a glare though there was a smug twist around his lips as he glanced at Harry beside him. Pansy scoffed. Did he really think Harry was some prize to be won? Did he think _she_ lost? Well, he had another thing coming.

* * *

TOF

* * *

By the middle of the day, Pansy thought she had managed to out swot even Granger. She rose her hand for every question, took notes diligently, and never seemed to mind that no one from her own house seemed to want anything to do with her.

As she walked to lunch - alone - she wondered just how her plan was going to work out. Even though it wasn't much of a plan, she knew it at least involved becoming friends with Potter. There were a lot of people the public would just ignore, but not the leader of the light. The first time around, Potter had managed to get the Malfoys a nice cushy sentence with barely any repercussions. Her family was hit way harder, but Pansy was young and she had only wanted to turn Potter in to Voldemort because _come on_ he was seventeen years old and going against the strongest wizard alive with nothing but the power of _love_ and she didn't want anyone else to die.

Because seriously they could stop him later from going on to kill all of the muggles later. She had a bunch of little scared Slytherin first years to think about. Her _family_ was out there. Anyway, her fortune was taken away but she was free, and that was good enough.

She already had the whole of what would become some of the core fighters in the light against her. Pansy figured she could go and castrate herself in front of them. Try really hard to be nice and act all _ashamed_ of who she was and where she came from. Of course they were all better than her, and they were a bunch of fucking saints to put up with her very presence.

Pansy snorted.

They had to grow up because Pansy kneeled to no one, especially not a bunch of freaking eleven-year-olds. She was too proud, and they were too arrogant. Doing so would just reaffirm in their heads that they were right in every decision they made, plus would cement what seemed to be Weasley's budding position as their leader.

"Pansy, how's your day been?" Hermione asked appearing at her elbow. The whole of the Slytherin first year group was with her, and Pansy felt herself smile. These were her people. They might not be as close as they were in her future, but they were her allies and for now, they had her back.

Hermione linked arms with her, and Draco appeared at Pansy's other side. With barely a "hello, how are you?" he immediately launched into a tirade of how none of the teachers realized his true brilliance and how he was just so much _better_ he was just on another level and right Hermione it's like the other houses got mad at her and him for being so smart especially Ravenclaw.

They all just laughed and jostled themselves into the hall. The group passed Weasley walking with Harry and Neville. Hermione, not knowing what had happened in their house, smiled at the two boys. Harry and Neville just turned away, while Weasley sneered nastily at her.

"Leave us alone you slimy little snake." he whispered, perhaps smartly. Pansy had no doubt Vince or Greg would gladly beat the pulp out of him. Pansy and Hermione stopped in their place, letting the other Slytherins continue on without them.

"I should have known you were evil on the train. Now at least, you're with your kind." He paused, looked Pansy up and down, and added "You too. Don't bother sitting with the rest of us. You're like a snake in a lions skin."

Pansy frowned at him. "I prefer not to fit in any arbitrary box you've made simply to please your simple little mind."

A heavy warm hand settled on Hermione and Pansy's shoulders.

"Is he bothering you?" Vince asked in his already deep and rumbly voice. Ron paled slightly at the sight, but held his chin up anyway. Pansy sighed. She knew Ron Weasley was a battle she was going to have to deal with herself, and if she tried to solve it with violence nothing would ever be resolved.

"No Vince. He's just a stupid boy saying stupid things." Pansy replied, dragging Hermione with her to their table. Pansy looked over at her to complain about the ginger boy, only to see Hermione barely holding back tears. Her large teeth were biting so hard into her lip Pansy thought she might draw blood, and her fingernails were digging hard into the flesh of her palms.

Pansy grabbed one of her hands as they sat down. The rest of the Slytherins politely ignored them as Pansy gently tugged her fingers out and gave them a little massage to relax her.

"Don't listen to that idiot. He hasn't grown up yet, his brain cells are a bit slow to multiply is all." Pansy said with more than a little bite to her words as the tears flowed down Hermione's face. She didn't mention the real problem, that Neville and Harry had snubbed her. From what Pansy remembered, Hermione was rather isolated in the beginning, and didn't seem like she had an abundance of muggle friends back home like Colin or Justin.

Hermione finally calmed down, and awkwardly set her head on Pansy's shoulder as she contemplated the ways she could tear Weasley's head from his shoulders.

"So Granger, who made you cry?" Daphne asked innocently. She didn't even look up from the tuna sandwich she was scraping some of the excess fish off of.

Draco finally stopped complaining, his brows furrowed. "Someone made you cry?" he asked, taking in her proximity to Pansy and her red lined eyes. His mouth set in a frown.

"The Weasel." Pansy replied for her, nudging Hermione off of her shoulder so that she could make the girl a plate. It wouldn't do any good for the bushy haired girl to starve.

"What would you like us to do to him?" Greg asked, cracking his knuckles. The other Slytherins, even some of the older ones, didn't look at all disturbed by this insinuation of violence. They all knew what it was like, that first debilitating remark that made you realize absolutely _no one else_ in the school liked you. It cut something deep.

Hermione sniffled, and looked to be seriously contemplating letting Ron Weasley get injured. Pansy didn't want it to happen, but she knew she couldn't stand in the way of Slytherin justice at this moment.

"Nothing." Hermione finally said. The rest of them looked faintly disappointed as she lifted her head and tossed back her mane of hair. She sniffed one last time, before a cool mask settled over her features.

"I'm just going to crush those little idiots in absolutely every thing."


	5. The Troll

If there was ever any girl Pansy could fall in love with, it was Hermione Jean Granger.

The girl was smart, talented, and oh so vindictive that she just couldn't help herself. She even stopped minding the bushy hair and overgrown teeth. The girl could look however she pleased as long as she continued to be one of the best things that had ever happened to her.

Over the week, the two girls went on a tireless crusade to make Ron Weasley look like an idiot. It wasn't especially hard to do, seeing as the boy seemed to be incredibly incompetent. His charms were sub par, every plant in Herbology seemed to want to eat him, and despite the fact that DADA was absurdly easy under Quirrell he seemed to be failing that too.

Worst of all, he seemed to have rubbed off on Harry and Neville. It wasn't as if it weren't common knowledge that Professor Snape was a hard ass. He expected you to have arrived to class having done at least a review of your textbook and suffered no fools.

Potions was unarguably one of the most dangerous subjects taught in the castle. Students made mistakes every single day that could end up permanently scarring them at best, killing off half the classroom at worst. Students, in general, understood this, and therefore even if they didn't like the teacher they at least tried their best in class.

Which is why Pansy simply couldn't understand why it appeared as if Harry hadn't even read the first chapter.

"Tell me what will I get if I add Powdered Root of Asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood?" Snape asked.

Harry looked absolutely terrified. His eyes were so wide they kind of looked like a green field of fear.

Pansy knew she had to do something. Perhaps, though she knew it was a long shot, not appearing like an idiot who couldn't be bothered to read the book would soften Snape's opinion towards Harry. Or at least the more realistic version, wouldn't cement his already terrible opinion.

" _susurri in mente._ " She intoned. She watched Harry shift a little as if uncomfortable.

_The Draught of The Living Death_

"The Draught of The Living Death?" Harry replied uncertainly. Snape didn't bother to let his surprise show on his face, instead moving directly to the next question.

"Where would you look if I told you to find me a Bezoar?"

_The stomach of a goat_

"The stomach of a goat," Harry said a bit more confidently though she couldn't miss the slightly confused set of his brow. Snape stared directly at the boy, a thoughtful look on his face.

Pansy was prepared to answer any other questions Snape might throw at the boy, but suddenly he straightened up to address the rest of the class.

"Well, why aren't you taking notes?" Snape questioned smoothly. He swept away from the boy with a thoughtful look on his face, and Pansy breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

TOF

* * *

Perhaps one of Pansy's favorite places at the moment was her bed. The girls never came up while she was there except to sleep, so she had nothing but space and time.

Plus, she had work to do. Hannah Abbott had given her the journals, and she had already practiced the transfiguration and pulled up the runes in order to make it entirely permanent. She also had a stack of books behind her on time travel Pansy had to look through.

Pansy took her wand and waved it over the journals, watching as they flattened and widened. Tapping them again, the names of the subjects they were intended for appeared on the front and spines. To complete her work, she took a branding knife borrowed from a third year and carved the runes on the inside corner of the notebook.

Now that that was done, she moved over to the musty tomes she had been pouring over for the past few days. No matter what Pansy looked into, there was no reference of Fate's Gift. She would have thought that the Hat was just messing with her, but what would be the reason to even make up something like that.

_Unless he just wanted to mess with you._

Pansy scowled. Possibly, however she was smart enough to know that it wouldn't do her any harm to exhaust all of the was never one to throw away a gift, even if she didn't know just exactly what it was.

She tiredly picked up the last book she had chosen from the library, a little slim one that she thought would be interesting.

The cover was made up of whimsical, beautiful colors. It was a book of tales about those who had supposedly made their way back in time. Pansy supposed like anything else, it wouldn't hurt to read the book.

"Parkinson," she heard a voice call from the doorway. It was Lavender, a strained look on her dark features as she avoided looking directly at her. Pansy bit her cheek to keep from shooting a hex at the girl. What, was she not worthy of the girls recognition?

"It's time for dinner." Lavender choked out reluctantly. Pansy rose from her bed, stuffing the tales book into her satchel. Moving to the doorway she saw the entire crew of her housemates standing behind Lavender, all ready to jump to her rescue.

Pansy sneered. Was she really just so awful that they couldn't bear to send one of their own alone?

_I guess I'm just naturally unlikeable._

She blew by them in a huff, ignoring the looks Harry and Neville gave her as she passed. McGonagall had already approached her about her utter lack of socialization with the other Gryffindors and now she had to sit with her classmates at least once a day from now on.

Somehow the word had traveled fast among her year mates, and now they were eyeing her with even more disdain than usual as they walked down to the Hall. Pansy decided to walk next to Sally Anne Perks. The fear she exuded was decidedly preferable to the worried looks of Harry and Neville and the downright hatred given to her by the others.

Also seeing as Perks was the only girl in their room that didn't hate her, she was the only one Pansy ever actually talked to, whether to ask her for her notes from History of Magic or asking her to pass the salt. Looking over at the mousy girl, Pansy spotted a little black mark right below her ear. It was almost like a star, with about twice the amount of points.

"Where'd you get that?" Pansy asked curiously. Perks jumped in surprise, then looked over at Pansy with wide eyes. Hazel, Pansy noted. She had never been interested enough to study the girl, but her eyes were a nice hazel.

"Um, what?" Perks asked, but her automatic move to touch the side of her head proved to Pansy the girl knew exactly what she was inquiring about. Pansy decided to play along.

"That mark under your ear. Is that a tattoo or something?" Pansy asked in what she hoped was a friendly voice. She was never that great at dealing with meek people. They came off as weak.

"Um, no. It's more, uh, like a family birthmark you know?" Perks replied with a tiny shrug. Pansy noted how her eyes darted away from her for a quick second, and how hesitant she seemed about answering. Pansy couldn't decide if she was lying or just incredibly intimidated by her.

"Well, it's nice. Did you get your glasses from Prim's Perfect Pair of Specs on Diagon? I think I recognize them." Pansy asked, trying to make more small talk.

Perks didn't seem like a bad sort, and one of the many many things on Pansy's to-do list was to figure out why exactly the girl had been sorted into Gryffindor. While not the most important thing for her to do, it would be good to figure out just exactly how much of an impact she had on the timeline.

"Um, yeah. I got them just before school started." Perks replied with a small smile.

Pansy nodded. "My family owns that place."

"So what Parkinson? Gonna try and buy some friends with some stupid glasses?" Weasley taunted.

"My glasses aren't stupid." Perks muttered under her breath.

"What was that Perks?" Weasley teased. The others tittered as Perks cheeks flamed, but she squared her shoulders and looked Weasley directly in the eyes.

"I said my glasses aren't stupid. And I think you shouldn't be so mean to Pansy, she hasn't even done anything to us." Perks said. Pansy blinked in her surprise at the smaller girls defense of her. She certainly hadn't done anything to deserve it. Then again she was the only one that actually bothered to talk to her. Maybe Perks considered her an odd sort of friend?

"She's the kid of Death Eaters," Weasley ranted in apparent outrage. "She's evil, she's probably planning to kill us all in our beds."

Pansy paused. Well, that wasn't a complete lie, but she almost certainly wasn't going to follow through with it.

"And your grandmother is a Black, which means you're directly related to Sirius Black and Bellatrix Lestrange," Perks retorted.

Weasley's mouth opened and closed for a few moments, surprised at either the girls quick response or the girls knowledge of his ancestry or possibly both, Pansy quite couldn't decide which.

Pansy couldn't wrap her head around the fact that the boy was constantly surprised at the fact that his heritage and family history were common knowledge. They weren't even dirty little secrets, and certainly would be studied by prominent pureblood families if no one else.

Then again, as blood traitors the extensive lessons in history and heritage probably weren't paramount.

Weasley stalked off with the rest of their year mates trailing behind him. Pansy rolled her eyes at his bratty behavior before turning to Perks.

"Thanks for defending me. I do tire from calling him an idiot all the time by myself." Pansy said with a smile.

"Um, it's um fine. I mean like he's just such a jerk sometimes. He thinks he's better than everybody else just because he's Harry Potter's best friend, you know?" Perks looked away as they continued down the hall.

"I know. He's a jerk." Pansy agreed absently, lost in her thoughts. She simply just didn't get why Weasley was acting the way he did. People didn't usually just act like little shits for no reason, and she wasn't the only one Weasley liked to pull his little superiority act with. He strutted around the common room like a proud peacock.

The only good thing seemed to be it was boosting Harry's confidence as well. Though he was still just a bit too nice to act like Weasley, he wasn't the shrinking violet he was at the beginning of the year. Pansy tried to remember when Potter had started turning into more of a douche than was warranted by just being young. Thirteen? Thirteen.

The two girls stepped into the hall, and Pansy immediately started over to the Slytherin table before Perks' hand on her elbow stopped her. Pansy allowed her to guide her over to the Gryffindors, where they uncomfortably shifted over to make room for the two new additions. Pansy somehow ended up next to the Pompous Weasley, one of the only ones not perturbed by her appearance in the house.

"Oh, hello Parkinson. How was your day? How are you doing in your classes?" Weasley asked her cheerful, as Pansy picked at her food. She shrugged.

"Alright. I'm making a lot of top marks, trying to stay awake in History of Magic." Pansy replied truthfully. With this Weasley, she could take or leave bestowing some snark upon. His almost unbeatable energy was a bit much.

"Good, good, always a great way to go. I've heard you've been studying with that smart Granger girl. Hold on and the two of you may find yourself Prefects by the time you're my age." Weasley said, letting his badge shine in the light.

"And you know we just all want to be like you," Pansy said in a dry tone of voice.

Weasley frowned, but when he saw her tiny little grin he couldn't help smiling. "Despite your sarcastic tone I'll take that as a compliment."

Pansy laughed, and Sally tried to smother her little snickers before two identical flashes of red seat themselves across from them at the table.

"Ah, Percy we see-"

"You're associating yourself with the baby lion snake."

"Do you really have to trade off on your sentences like that?" Sally asked. One of the twins looked at her with a twinkle in his eye.

"Of course not lovely. I can talk to you one on one _all_ you'd like," he said with a wink.

Sally flushed bright crimson as the red haired twin continued to grin at her. Pansy finally took the initiative and kicked him under the table.

"Stop flustering her, I need her with all of her brain cells."

Both twins cocked their heads. "What are brain cells?" They asked at the same time.

"I'm not quite sure how I'm going to explain muggle science to you two," Pansy admitted. She could say they were tiny building blocks, but then that would lead to all sorts of questions like what they were made of and if there are different kinds and atoms and molecules...

"You know muggle science?" Percy asked. Pansy could have slapped herself for her mistake. She pasted a fake smile on he face.

"Yeah, a little bit. Um, the Parkinson house is located really close to a muggle neighborhood. They left a textbook there with all kinds of things in there." Pansy said, scrambling to cover herself. Or, you know, she'd bought the textbook herself during that brief period of bliss when she went to the University of London.

The other twin smiled at her. "So you're the girl who's got our little brother all worked up. The evil one, yea?" His tone was sweet and joking, and Pansy found she really liked these Weasleys.

"Yep, evil to the core and I haven't even done anything yet." Pansy bragged.

"Of course you did something. You dared steal from him the great Harry Potter. I doubt he'll ever forgive you for that."

* * *

TOF

* * *

The word had finally made its way down the first year grapevine that they were to start their Flying lessons.

Some were so excited that Pansy was surprised they weren't wetting themselves. Draco began bragging to anyone and everyone about he had been getting flying lessons from the time he was big enough to toddle, and some made up daring escapades about how they had incredible adventure where the just barely swerved out of the way of some flying something or another.

Of course it wasn't uncommon at all for children from magical families to have toy broom that went up no higher than about five feet, and most brooms that went any higher you had to be twelve and up.

The students few children from nonmagical families were either reading flying manuals and looking at broom catalogs in awe or they were completely terrified. The latter perfectly described Hermione Granger.

Hermione seemed to be devouring every piece of flying literature she could find, even while the other Slytherins reassured her that they would tutor her and nothing bad could happen. When Draco assured her that it was in her magic to do incredible things she seemed to calm down, but then she started looking up what safety precautions were in store for brooms.

Pansy noticed that Neville seemed to be doing worse this time around without Hermione to read things to him. Harry was too enchanted with the idea of flying, and Weasley was too busy trying to out boast Draco in what seemed to be a contest of 'who can shout louder'?

Madam Hooch strolled back in forth in front of them, pointlessly lecturing a bunch of eleven-year-olds on flying etiquette that it was clear to see about three-fourths of them weren't even paying attention.

"Now I want you to put your hands over your brooms and firmly say 'Up'! This should command our broom to come to you." Hooch instructed.

Calls of 'Up' began to ring around the practice area. Some, like Draco, Hermione, Harry, and Pansy, went into their hands immediately. Others, like Neville, just saw their brooms roll around on the ground for a bit.

Pansy looked around and thought she saw tendrils of light reaching between some of her classmates hands and brooms. She squinted, and the light became clearer as more and more people commanded their brooms to come to them.

Once everyone had managed to summon their brooms - or cheat and pick them up from the ground while Hooch wasn't looking - Hooch issued her next instruction.

"Now you can mount your brooms. Let your feet dangle over the edges, yes like that Miss Patil, and push gently from the ground."

Pansy pushed herself up. This was comfortable, she had always been a decent flyer. Hermione rose from the ground with a surprising amount of grace, probably from the continuous pep talks her house had been giving her.

"Neville, what are you doing?"

Pansy whirled around to see Neville wasn't pleasantly hovering like the rest of them. She had completely forgotten about this incident. She felt a bit of fear as she saw Neville rise up further and further, before he finally fell off of his broom and hit the ground. Everyone surrounding him cringed at the resounding crack as the bone snapped.

Madam Hooch escorted a sniveling Neville off to the health ward after a stern warning to all of them to not fly while she was gone or they would be expelled.

Pansy looked around curiously. Draco was just standing there, bragging to a Theo, who so obviously didn't care, about something or another. So without Draco to antagonize Harry, who would? Would he end up on the Quidditch team?

Pansy tried to tell herself that she didn't care about whether or not he became the bloody Seeker, that he was a jerk and a follower and she wanted nothing to do with him. She erased from her mind her memories of the future when she would see Harry fresh off a win, his hair wind tousled and his eyes glowing, and replaced it instead with how he looked at her in the halls recently, with his eyes full of disgust and fear.

"Uh oh," Sally muttered next to her.

Pansy looked where Sally was staring to see Hermione, dismounted from her broom and picking up a tiny sphere from the ground.

"Hey, isn't this Longbottom's Rememberall?" Hermione asked innocently.

"Give that back you dirty little snake." Weasley hissed at her. Hermione's eyes widened for a second in hurt, before her expression hardened and she narrowed her eyes.

"Not a chance Weasley."

"Give it back, Granger." Now that was Harry, stepping forward and holding out his hand. It was times like this Pansy could see the leader he would become.

"No." Hermione spat. Harry made a grab for the tiny sphere, and Hermione backed out of his way before grabbing her broom and kicking off from the ground.

"If you want it, come and get it." she shouted, before pushing off from the ground and flying away.

Harry wasted no time in grabbing his broom as well and flying off at a startling pace. Hermione speed up, and soon they were chasing each other around at neck breaking speeds.

"Well, I guess she won't need those flying tutoring sessions after all," Daphne commented.

Hermione threw the glittering glass ball into the air and shot up to catch it. Harry went at her full speed to try and get her to drop the ball in surprise, however as soon as he flew at her she dropped to the side and he missed her completely. Unfortunately, his tactic did work, and she dropped the ball.

Harry rushed to catch it, grabbing on to the glass ball, however just as he was about to descend Hermione rushed past him and her hair clouded his vision, causing him to drop the ball again. Both of them realized his folly at the same time and headed for the ground at breakneck speeds.

Classmates scattered out of the way as the two dove for the ground, and just as suddenly as it all began, it was over.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, what are you two doing?" Pansy turned to see McGonagall striding across the grassy field towards the two of them. Hermione and Harry glared at each other, and their babbling blaming each other could be heard even as McGonagall dragged them across the field.

Daphne had gone pale. "Oh no, Hermione is going to be in so much trouble."

"I wouldn't count on it." Pansy thought she heard Sally mutter.

* * *

TOF

* * *

"He got on the Quidditch team?" Millicent exploded. The Slytherin's hadn't taken long to break Hermione about what had happened on the field after Flying lessons.

"Well, I got on as well. However, I'm not the one who came from old money so money so I can't purchase a broom through the school." Hermione grumbled.

The rest of the Slytherins looked suitably indignant. It wasn't as if they could just ask their parents to ask a kid they had never even met a broom, and they were so pricey Hermione couldn't afford one.

"But I only got offered a spot because when we went to get the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Professor Snape was walking by on his way to the dungeons. McGonagall hadn't even thought of putting me on the team, but Snape said that if Harry was such an amazing flyer and I was keeping up with him, that meant I should get the same opportunity."

"But...we already have a Seeker," Blaise stated the obvious.

"Snape rather ruthlessly cut him from the team, though apparently the boy was failing his Potions class anyway so he wasn't keen on having him on the team as is. They just didn't have any viable prospects until now. Snape says I'll just use a school broom for now." Hermione explained.

Though her face was utterly calm and her posture straight as she cut perfectly into the chunk of meat on her plate, Pansy didn't miss the bitter tone to her voice. From what Pansy remembered, Hermione had never seemed that interested in Quidditch. She would also be the only girl on the Quidditch team.

The next morning as the whole of Gryffindor sat eating their breakfast., Draco gave the others at their table a look. They wordlessly rose as one, then made their way over to the rival table.

"Ah, so Precious Potter gets to have his very own broom. How sweet, how against the rules." Hermione drawled in what Pansy thought was a great impersonation of Draco.

"Get off it Granger, you'll be getting one too." Harry shot back. Hermione's lip curled.

"Some of us weren't born with everyone bending over to kiss our arse. I have to use a school broom. And the only reason I didn't get expelled instead is because even McGonagall knew that would be incredibly biased." Hermione said. They spoke in quiet voices, trying not to let those who were obviously eavesdropping hear in.

Pansy and the others guarded the conversation as well as they could. Slytherins could keep a secret better than anyone else, but if the other Gryffindors heard Pansy had no doubt the entire school would hear about it within the hour. Marcus Flint was already too attached to the idea of having Hermione as a secret weapon, a no one crossed Marcus Flint.

"Well, then that's too bad for you Granger," Harry said angrily.

"Well, then how about we have a wizarding duel tonight to make things even?" Draco suggested casually.

"A duel?" Harry repeated with a confused look on his face. Weasley looked excited and nudged Harry to shut up.

"You're on. Tonight, in the trophy room."

"I'm Hermione's second, I'm assuming you'll be Potter's."

"Of course."

Pansy walked away with the rest of the Slytherins as Draco began to laugh.

"Now all we have to do is not show up, and they'll end up in detention like the idiots they are," Draco explained.

"No, we're going," Hermione said in a voice that brooked no argument.

"But then we might get caught," Draco whined. Hermione shoved him.

"But then we get to beat them. Honestly Draco, how well do you really think they're going to do?"

* * *

TOF

* * *

Pansy stayed up late that night with Sally Anne Perks by her side. They had already sent up a sleepy Neville up to his bed. Sally sat next to her, nervously gnawing at her lip.

"Why exactly are we doing this?" Sally asked, rolling up the last of her homework she had been doing to pass the time.

"We need to make sure that they don't get caught," Pansy explained, calmly turning the next page in her book on muggle versus magical brain development. "They might lose us a bunch of House points."

"But you don't even care about the House cup," Sally said. Pansy didn't bother to reply, something that within the last week Sally had become accustomed to. Pansy loved that about her, how Sally seemed to just get some of the things Pansy did. demanding no explanation whatsoever.

A heavy foot came down on the steps, and the two girls heard the boys muttering to one another as they walked down the steps. The boys passed right by them to the portrait, and Pansy chose that moment to stand up.

"Going somewhere?" Pansy inquired with a little smirk. Weasley jumped, and Harry just turned to her with a tired expression.

"Really, Parkinson? What do you want now?" Harry complained. Pansy hid her grimace at his use of her last name. It hurt more than it should that Harry apparently didn't think she was good enough to be his friend.

"I'm going to come with you," Pansy said in a tight voice. Weasley's eyes bounced all over the place, and he abruptly grabbed at Harry's sleeve.

"Come on mate, we have to go," Weasley whispered. Harry turned away from the girls, and the two whispered to each other for a moment before Harry turned back to them and said, "I guess you can come, but don't get us in trouble."

"Right then," Sally said, throwing a cardigan over her flowery nightgown.

The four Gryffindors crawled out of the portrait with a warning glare from the Fat Lady. As quietly as they could, they made their way down to the Trophy Room. Before they knew it, they were surrounded by the shiny awards and waiting.

"They're probably not going to show up, dishonest little bastards," Weasley growled.

"Language," Sally reminded him absently.

"You're one to talk Weasley," Draco's voice came from the door frame. He leaned against the smooth wood, a cool look in his eyes. "For one from the house of courage you've certainly proved yourself to be a coward."

"Shut it Malfoy!" Weasley shouted without a thought.

"You idiot." Hermione hissed. That was all she could get out before Filch's voice came floating from the corridor.

"We need to run," Pansy said. The group of children sprinted out of the room as quietly as they could. Filch's voice seemed to come at them from all directions as they ran. Every time his voice came from come where different, they changed directions. They ran up a staircase and around a corner.

"Little firsties out of bed..." Filch's voice came. Pansy stifled the cold fear collecting in her throat. She was twenty-two for god's sake. She shouldn't be afraid of what couldn't be worse than a simple detention.

"Look, a classroom," Weasley whispered.

Harry pulled at the door to no avail. "It's locked," he whispered.

"Honestly, are you a wizard or aren't you?"

Hermione muscled her way to the front.

" _Alohamora_ ," she intoned. The locks clicked, and the kids all piled their way into the room.

"Okay, do we have everyone?" Hermione asked. The bushy haired girl counted heads, making sure all six of them were there. Meanwhile, Sally was entirely silent even as the others argued over whose fault it was exactly for the position that they had found themselves in.

"Sally, take my side! It was completely the Weasels fault, wasn't it?" Pansy asked irritated. She nudged the girl to get her to speak up and turned in the direction the girl was staring.

"How is it you always notice these things before I do?" Pansy muttered.

Behind them sat the hugest dog Pansy had ever seen. A Cerberus, her head supplied. Big, three headed, and vicious.

"Holy crap." Pansy murmured.

"What's 'Holy'?" Weasley whispered.

"Never mind that, let's get out!" Hermione exclaimed, grabbing the red headed boy by the hand.

The children tumbled out of the room much the same way they went in. For a moment, they stood quietly in the hallway, catching their breath.

"What the bloody hell was that doing in there?" Weasley asked, he face red and his hands on his knees.

Hermione, while in the same state of disarray still managed to sound more dignified.

"Probably guarding what's ever through the door it was standing on."

* * *

TOF

* * *

Pansy simply didn't get what was the big deal with Gryffindors and adventure.

The next morning as she ate breakfast, the two boys seemed torn between hating her and berating her as to what could be under that door.

"It could be a treasure. Just think about it, what place could be safer than Hogwarts to hide your fortune. I bet that's where the founders put it." Weasley murmured next to her. She picked at her waffles before leveling a cool glare at him. Weasley didn't seem to notice. He seemed conflicted between involving her and shutting her out, so he did this weird thing where he sat very close to her but still leaned towards Harry on his other side.

A huge package dropped down on the table and directly into her porridge, spattering the entire mess onto the table around her.

_Welp, that's the end of that meal._

"Harry, it's your broom," Weasley exclaimed excitedly before he looked around suspiciously. Pansy could already see the curious gazes of the people around them.

"You'd better get that up to your room right now. I'm not about to have both Wood and Flint putting my head on a stick because I couldn't keep you from ruining everything." Pansy said, shoving the package into their arms as Sally dragged them from their seats. The boys ran off to the tower, giggling like madmen and dragging Neville behind them.

"If they weren't such jerks, it would've been nice to be friends," Sally mused. Pansy didn't say anything, but she agreed.

* * *

TOF

* * *

Over the next month, a weird world order was struck.

In order to make up for the moment they actually seemed like they may become friends, Weasley and his entourage of Gryffindors launched a relentless tirade against Pansy and by extension, Sally. They went extra hard against the Slytherins as well, but for the most part they targeted Hermione and Draco.

Pansy took to hiding to avoid the taunts and tricks they would pull on her. For once she could actually admit that all that stuff hurt, and it hurt badly. Being targeted like this brought up too many memories. She and Sally pushed their beds together and studied wards to put up around their curtains after a particularly nasty incident when they filled their beds with mud and a dead baby chick someone took from Hagrid's yard.

They taunted Hermione with names like "Death Eaters Pet." Even the older ones seemed to get into it, calling her filthy names and a traitor to her own cause.

They knocked books out of their hands, sabotagued their potions, tore through their belongings, and spread nasty rumors about them throughout the school.

The Slytherins, no matter how hard they tried, couldn't keep Hermione sheltered by the seemingly relentless nature of their year. Fred and George helped them when they could, and Percy tried talking to his brother, but regardless more often than not, Pansy would find Hermione locked up in the library with her lip chewed raw and dark circles under her eyes.

Draco seemed to be doing the best out of all of them. He had been bred with such a sense of innate superiority that many of the taunts appeared to just slid off of him. If Pansy didn't know him any better she would think he was entirely fine, but she knew the warning signs with Draco. How his hair seemed to be gelled entirely down to his skull. How he retied his tie every half hour and his nails were filed down to the nub.

She could barely restrain the urge to hex Weasley into next week, but she knew at this point it would be nothing but bad.

Time seemed to drag till finally Halloween came around. Professor Flitwick had them working on the levitating charm.

" _Wingardium Leviosa_ ," Pansy said, barely bothering to look at her feather. Hermione had seemed extra agitated today. Just to burn off her energy, she made the feather fly higher and higher, then tickle the side of Theo 's head who simply blessed her with an amused smile.

Weasley had been trying to make his feather float for the past fifteen minutes, saying it over and over again. Pansy saw the exact moment Hermione couldn't take it anymore.

"It's Wingardium Levi _o_ sa Weasley, not Levio _sa_. For Merlin's sake, crack open a textbook." Hermione snapped. Weasley's face darkened, and he threw down his wand and refused to try another spell.

After class, most of the Slytherins rushed ahead to get to their next class clear across the castle, but Hermione hung back to talk about all of the notebooks Pansy had been transfiguring for the Hufflepuffs.

"They are very nice Pans. Apparently the Ravenclaws have heard about them as well, but none of them can manage it the way you can. They want to offer you cash." Hermione said.

They walked out of the room and somehow ended up behind a grumbling Ronald Weasley.

"Honestly, that little Death Eater pet is ridiculous. She's going to wish she hadn't been such a little swot when they dump her like a piece of trash."

Pansy gasped. She to her side to see Hermione absolutely trembling. Before Pansy could say anything, the girl took off. Pansy ran off after her with Sally trailing her, but not before she wished she had hexed Weasley when she had the chance.

* * *

TOF

* * *

It had been hours, but Hermione was still sobbing in the stall.

Pansy no longer attempted to try and convince Hermione to come out, no matter that her stomach was grumbling. Sally sat miserably against the wall, her head tucked between her knees so that her brown hair fell and covered her cheeks.

"Do you smell that?" Pansy asked, sniffing delicately at the air. It smelled like rot and garbage. She heard what sounded like a tiny earthquake, before feeling the ground shake beneath her.

The troll.

How had she forgotten about the _troll_?

Before Pansy could warn the other girls, the small mountain of a creature stomped into the bathroom.

"Hermione, get out of that stall now!" Pansy shouted. The brown haired girl stumbled out of the stall with fear apparent in her eyes. The troll rose his might arms to take a swing at her.

" _Accio_ Hermione." Pansy pointed her wand at her, and Hermione came shooting into her arms. Just then, Weasley and Harry burst through the door the troll had already partially destroyed.

"Come on Harry, we have to save them." The boys ran to help. Weasley ran to grab Sally from where she sat still on the floor, entirely in shock. He cradled the small girl in his arms and ran to set her next to the broken doorway.

The troll smashed the sinks, sending debris flying over them. Pansy grabbed the two people closest to her and pulled them under the shield she put up, then dove as the troll took another swing.

At this moment, Pansy was no longer a first-year student at Hogwarts. She was another soldier on a battlefield rife with madness.

Wesley appeared from behind the troll and jumped on his back, stuffing his wand in his nose. The troll roughly shook the red haired boy off of his back. Weasley flew off and hit the ground with a crack that Pansy knew from too much practice were his ribs.

"Harry!." Pansy shouted, rushing over to Weasley. "Say the spell incendio and think of fire. Keep him busy while I stabilize Weasley."

Harry nodded, his eyes determined as he shot fire jet after fire jet at the troll. Pansy put into practice the spells she had learned in the future. A few to stabilize internal bleeding, tear the bones out of whatever organs they had punctured, and another to start mending. It all took under thirty seconds.

She turned just in time to see the troll flick Hermione out of the way, knocking her into Harry. Sally, finally out of shock, dragged the two of them out of the way with surprising strength.

Pansy knew she had to put an end to this. She rose and in a single flowing moment, pointed the wand at the toll and shouted, " _Bombarda_."

The trolls head exploded in a shower of gore. For a moment, he swayed uncertainly, before pitching forward. Pansy felt cold fear when she saw he was headed for the still form of Weasley.

" _Accio_ Weasley," she intoned. The boy came hurtling towards her, and she cast a cushioning charm on herself and the floor around her.

The teachers chose this moment to walk through the door.

"And just what did you think you were doing?" McGonagall asked.

The teachers gasped as they took the in the sight of the carnage on the walls and the blood on their robes. Sally was shaking as she clutched an equally terrified Hermione to her chest, and Ron was moaning in pain, his brow wet with fear.

"We're so sorry Professor. We needed to go to the bathroom and didn't hear about the troll. The boys came to warn us and we got trapped." Pansy explained. She didn't need to fake the tears in her eyes of the shake in her voice. As the adrenaline faded, she could feel how she, too was shaking. There was a gash along he temple, and somehow she had scratched the top of her hand.

The professors, perhaps sensitive to the fearful expressions of a bunch of young children, sent them off to the hospital wing. Flitwick conjured a stretcher to lay Weasley on, and they sent the traumatized eleven-year-olds on their way.

"Pansy..."

Pansy turned to see Weasley on his stretcher, smiling sheepishly. At her.

"I'm sorry about how I acted with you. You saved my life, you must be alright."

Pansy stopped, and the others around them paused with her. Pansy was shaking, but this time it wasn't from fear. All she could think about was the mud in her bed and Draco's gelled hair and the bags under Hermione's eyes and the tears, all of the tears.

"Screw you Weasley. It shouldn't have taken a bloody troll to realize I'm not evil and that you're a jerk." Pansy shouted with tears spilling down her cheeks. She stormed down the corridor towards the hospital wing, then stopped.

"And you _better_ believe I'm going to collect on that life debt."


	6. Keep Your Heart Open

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been posting here as I've been getting the next chapter written. Please enjoy!

"Miss Parkinson, we're so glad you decided to join us today. Would you like a lemon drop?"

Pansy sat primly on the chair Dumbledore had conjured for her, facing the desk and staring past Dumbledore to look at the little trinkets decorating the room. Snape sat on the side, staring her up and down. She politely declined the candy, internally rolling her eyes at his attempts to soften her to whatever he was trying to get her to do.

"Alright then," Dumbledore said, gently setting the little crystal bowl back down on his deck with a soft clack.

For a moment, they all sat in silence, looking at one another. Pansy kept her face politely curious, not revealing any of the trepidation that she felt on the inside.

Dumbledore hummed, then conjured a glass. He languidly picked up the pitch of water sitting on the desk and poured himself a glass.

"Would you like some, Miss Parkinson?" he asked. Pansy begrudgingly answered yes, and soon she found herself with an ice cold glass of water in her hands. She sipped at it, as the two older men looked at her. Pansy finally set the glass down on the desk.

"So why was I called up to your office, Professor Dumbledore?"

The men looked at her, and Dumbledore gave her a peaceful little smile, the twinkle in his eye shining at her in what she thought was an almost aggressive manner.

"We just want to review the troll incident with you. It appears that you were the one who ultimately defeated the troll?" Dumbledore asked as if he didn't already know the answer.

"Well yes, but it was a team effort. I could never have done it without the help of my classmates." Pansy tried to appear humble as she smiled innocently. She could see that the other two men weren't buying it, but damn if she wasn't going to play this card until she couldn't anymore.

"Yes, yes, with a blasting spell that had your magical signature all over it. However, the most interesting part is the fate of Mr. Weasley. Mr. Weasley, with any other group of first years, would have died. His lungs and heart were punctured, and he should have suffered significant brain damage. However, just today he was healthy enough at breakfast to put away two plates of food." Dumbledore said, in that same irritatingly calm voice.

Pansy didn't say anything, just continued to sit there and stare with her spine straight and a bland smile adorning her face. Dumbledore continued on.

"When we had Madame Pomphrey look further into it, she said that the spells, quick response, and expertise were all indicative of someone who had worked as a war medic. Someone who was used to healing their comrades in the midst of turmoil. Yet when we looked into it, the only magical signature there was you, Miss Parkinson."

Dumbledore paused to take a drink of water, and Pansy took one as well. They stared at each other over the rim of their glasses, blue meeting blue, and set their cups down at the same time.

"Professor Snape has also been watching you over the past couple of months. You accomplish practical work with what some may see as a strange ease, however, you struggle with theory. You know spells that aren't in the curriculum until Defense your fifth year, and you do them well, despite the fact you've barely had possession of your wand.

"You know about things that no aristocratic pureblood girl in our society should know of. Muggle colloquialisms roll of your tongue with ease. You special ordered jeans and blouses last month and seem to wear them whenever you can. In a society where even people who say they have no problems with muggles still hold a slight inherent prejudice to them, you never even bat an eye."

Dumbledore stopped again, and Pansy narrowed her eyes.

"I still don't believe I understand what your ultimate goal is here-"

"His goal, little girl," Snape interrupted with a hiss. His black eyes seemed to be burning, but Pansy felt no fear. Her adult side was completely in control now, and she had seen worse things than an irritated Snape. "Is to figure out why a little spoiled aristocratic pureblood girl like you got a hold of medical expertise, battle experience, and a knowledge of the muggle world."

"The water had the antidote to Polyjuice. You haven't reverted, so from what we can see you are very much Pansy Parkinson." Dumbledore said, putting a lemon drop on his tongue.

Pansy leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, her posture gone to crap. Without even thinking about it, she began to finger the handle of her wand, always stored in her sleeve.

"You have battle instincts, why?" Snape asked, eyeing the movement of her hand. She scowled but kept her hand on it, staring him defiantly in the eye. She could feel the brush of his legilimancy against her shields, and his eyes widened. She turned away back to the headmaster.

"Why are you here, Miss Parkinson? Who are you?" Dumbledore asked. The sweet, gentle tone was gone. The twinkle had disappeared, and Pansy knew she was no longer looking at the kindly old headmaster. No, she was looking at Albus Dumbledore, defeater of Grindlewald, head of the ICW, Grand Sorcerer, Chief of the Wizengamot. There were powerful wizards all over the world but combined with his mind and his political capital, there was no one more powerful on this planet.

However, Pansy didn't bend. She wouldn't bend.

"I'm Pansy Ariel Parkinson, Scion of House Parkinson." she replied honestly.

The men assessed her, and she tilted her head.

"Alright then, when are you from?"

Pansy averted her eyes and looked down at her nails while Dumbledore continued to speak. She knew they had her, but she still would hold out as long as she could.

"You're telling the truth, you are Pansy Parkinson. However, you are also eleven years old. There's no way that you would be able to learn all that you know in the time you've been given. When are you from?"

Pansy looked up from under her lashes. She couldn't help but thinking what a ridiculous picture they made. Two powerful adult wizards putting the heat on a little schoolgirl.

"2003." She admitted. Neither man batted an eye.

"And what is life like in 2003 that Time felt the need to send you back?" Dumbledore asked.

A laugh burst out of Pansy's chest. A crackly, bitter one. Really? This was the question they wanted to ask?

"What do you think? Horrid, absolutely terrible. Do you think I asked to be sent back to being eleven just for the kicks?" Pansy asked, a manic smile on her face.

For the first time, the two men looked disturbed as Pansy continued to laugh. And she just couldn't stop laughing. It was just so funny that they would think she was here to help the Dark Lord, absolutely fucking hilarious.

"The Wizarding World is dead. The War has spread all over the freaking world. Wizards in freaking Timbuktu are dying! No schools exist, there aren't enough children are alive to fill them up. Every time a muggleborn is created, we try kill them. He created a special squad to kill the innocent little babies, and their innocent little siblings, and their parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles. Do you know how many portkeys I snuck on these kids for the Order?

"There is no true Light, there is no true Dark, there's just blood and death and hatred. Sweet little Ernie Macmillian went insane and started eating people."

Pansy laughed again, and it was like she was back in her own time again, watching everything fall to crap around her. Somewhere in her mind, she could hear Blaise telling her she never did know how to properly express her thought was sobering, then she stopped and frowned. They thought she was dangerous.

"You're afraid of me, you're afraid of the things I might do. I can't say that you shouldn't be, I didn't make it as long as I did because I'm some innocent little flower. None of us were. But I came back to save the people I loved, and the only way to do that is to save the world."

"Tell us what we need to know," Snape demanded. Pansy weighed her options. She could tell them everything and leave them to handle the rest. The adults could take care of everything, and she could relax into this new life.

But these adults, all of them, both Dark and Light, raised their children to fight their parents war. Pansy didn't trust easily, and there was no reason to trust them. The only person who could ultimately defeat Voldemort anyway was Harry Potter. Maybe she could do something to help out the supposed Savior of their world, even if he'd never done anything for her.

"I'll tell you one thing."

TOF

November, apparently, came with Ravenclaws.

At the present, Anthony Goldstein stood in front of her with an entire crew of Ravenclaws. Sally contentedly knitted a large red and gold sweater while Pansy looked up, bored at the sight of their stern faces. She gently shut the library book in front of her and pushed the book to the side of the table.

One of the older Ravenclaws cast silencing spells around the table so that Madam Pince wouldn't hear and disturb them, and the lot of them pulled up chairs to speak with her.

Pansy absently wondered if it was the job of everyone lately to try and intimidate her. But once again she felt mostly eleven years old, so she couldn't lie and say that being surrounded like this wasn't a bit disconcerting. However, Pansy was still Pansy, so she just rested her chin on her hand and stared.

"You're Pansy Parkinson, aren't you?" Goldstein demanded. She smirked.

"You know perfectly well who I am. Hm, Goldstein, is that Jewish?" she threw back at him. He blinked, either surprised at how flippant she was or stunned that she knew what Jewish was.

"Yes, yes it is," he said. She hummed again, and now he looked vaguely irritated.

"We want to know how you make those notebooks. The ones I bring from home can't do the things yours does, and we can't figure out the charms you use," an Asian girl piped up from the back.

"I can't tell you how to make them. Who knows, I might want to put a patent on them someday." Pansy lied. She wouldn't hesitate twisting this situation to her advantage, it never hurt to have someone owe you.

"Stop playing games with us Parkinson. What do you want, money?" Terry Boot demanded.

"I don't need money," Pansy said in apparent dismissal, looking back down to her book. She was in the library to renew the ones she had already checked out, but then she spotted this fascinating one on the origin of magic and had been there for hours. She thought one of the reasons Sally hung around her was that she always found situations that forced Sally into finishing her homework and doing her knitting.

"Well then what do you want?" Boot asked.

"Knowing Pansy," Sally mused, tugging at an especially difficult purl stitch, "Probably favors, information, valuable items..." she trailed off, caught back into her knitting.

"But - but that's so Slytherin! Aren't you supposed to be Gryffindor, Slayer of Trolls and all that?" Goldstein sputtered. Pansy winced at the title that had been spreading around the school like wildfire.

"No, that's so smart. If I want payment, I choose the payment. And I'm not going to teach you how to do that because I want you under my thumb, and you won't be able to figure it out anyway." Pansy said. The Ravenclaws blinked at her honesty, and she powered on.

"If you want notebooks, I'm guessing that most of you already have the journals?" she questioned. The group traded looks, before reaching into their bags and pulling out bulky journals of various sizes. The table filled up with them, and Pansy found herself surrounded by stacks. She pulled one of the expandable leather bags her father had given her for galleons.

"Now, I want you to fill out the front page of all of these journals with your first and last name, year, house, subject you intend to use the journal for, and anything special you want me to do with it. Then put it in this bag, and I'll get them to you as soon as possible."

As they left the library Sally tucked her hair behind her ear and stuffed the half finished sweater into her bag.

"You know, you don't have to be so hard on them." she commented.

Pansy shook her head. "Stay soft and they'll walk all over you."

Sally stayed quiet as they made their way up to Gryffindor Tower.

"Valor," Sally said to the Fat Lady. She turned back to Pansy with a mischievous smile. "Come on, if we hurry, we might not have to see them."

Unfortunately, the two boys were sitting at a couch right next to the entrance of the portrait.

"Pansy, Sally. We were waiting for you to get back." Weasley said, popping up from the couch.

"Damn it," Pansy whispered.

"Language," Sally said, before turning to the two boys.

"Well then, what do you want?" Sally demanded her hands on her tiny hips.

"We were wondering if the two of you would like to go with us to the new Cooking Club they started," Weasley said.

"Weasley, we already said we're not going to do anything with you. You tortured us. We couldn't walk anywhere in the school that felt safe." Sally said. Pansy watched as Sally stalked up to Weasley, her hazel eyes positively glowing. It was times like these Pansy wondered where she had gone after fourth year. She would have been an absolute menace on the battlefield.

"We said we were sorry, what else do you want from us?" Harry demanded. Pansy had noticed that Harry had looked tired these past couple of weeks. His thin frame seemed to get even thinner, which just couldn't have been healthy for him. She knew Dumbledore hadn't passed along the news yet, so that couldn't be affecting him.

"We want the memories of a happy October, instead of one where we and our friends were constantly living in fear of you jerks." Sally shot back. Harry winced, and Pansy felt something like guilt mixed with victory that twisted her stomach up.

"Well, aren't you going to say something?" Weasley asked her. Pansy looked at Weasley and erased from her eyes the image of the man she knew in the future. The one who distrusted her, but made her sandwiches when she slept at his house and whose optimism for a better future kept the whole order going. She thought of an older Granger, his future wife.

"Some of Hermione's hair fell out from the stress. She could barely sleep, and you two still don't get it. You think suddenly being nice without truly realizing the errors of your ways is going to work. It isn't." Pansy paused. She swallowed, then looked away. "You need to realize that everyone is a person. We have feelings just like you do."

Sally threw a comforting arm around Pansy 's waist and led her away.

TOF

"Yes, I am so excited for this!"

The girls of Gryffindor, much faster than the guys of Gryffindor, seemed to come around to the conclusion that Pansy wasn't evil. A raging bitch, certainly. But not evil. The only one still doubtful of Pansy's credibility was Lavender. She didn't seem comfortable with Weasleys abrupt turn about.

But that was all erased in the face of the first Quidditch match of the year. All of the girls were holed up in their room, tying their hair into ponytails and painting their faces and nails with the house colors.

Fay Dunbar was practically bouncing around the room, streaks of red and yellow going down her face.

"This is going to be so great! I absolutely can't wait. Apparently the Weasley's are supposed to be the best beaters. Are they Sally, you've been to some of their practices?"

Sally smiled as she painted a bright red heart on Pansy's cheek. Pansy watched as Sally secretly rolled her eyes then turned to Fay.

"They're great." she stated, not caring to elaborate anymore.

What the other girls in the dorms didn't seem to get, much like Weasley, was that Pansy and Sally weren't going to forgive them like that. The only one who seemed to understand was Lavender.

Pansy ached for Slytherin sometimes. She missed the blue-green light and the worn black leather couches in the Common Room. But most of all she missed the people. She missed Daphne and Millicent and Tracey. She missed knowing that even if they didn't truly care for her, they would never turn against her. Loyalty meant something for a Slytherin.

They all bundled up in coats and scarves, then made their way down to the Quidditch field.

They were late because Eloise couldn't find her left shoe, so by the time they came down the flyers were already in the air, and Slytherin was winning. Pansy hid her little smirk behind the hem of her scarf.

Hermione looked absolutely brilliant. Pansy knew she had been training nonstop for this match. She was an interesting mix of nervous and happy, full heartedly throwing herself into studying different maneuvers and plays to make up for her lack of a broom.

Now she sat atop of her broom with her hair held back by about a million sticking charms and a deep green velvet ribbon Theo handed her at breakfast as Flint dragged her away.

Weasley recounted how Harry had already spotted the snitch, but Flint had knocked him out of the way. Sally and Pansy huddled together under a blanket for warmth, Sally mostly ignoring the game in favor of continuing to knit the giant sweater she'd been working on for what Pansy felt like was forever.

There wasn't much going on at the moment. The twins were brilliant, of course. Despite the fact that Pansy preferred the other team, she couldn't help but smile at how well they worked together.

The two Seekers were relatively still, each scanning the entire field for a single glimmer of gold. It was a nice day, crisp and blue, just right for Quidditch, and everyone around her seemed to be in good spirits, or at least until Harry started jerking around on his broom. The crowd started gasping.

"What is that wanker doing?" Fay complained.

"Language." Sally reprimanded before she looked up to the sky. "Oh shoot."

Pansy looked around urgently. This had happened last time too. She had heard some rumor of a hex or a curse and...there.

Quirrell was staring directly at Harry, holding eye contact and muttering under his breath. She stood to rush over to where the teachers were. Before she could get too far, Weasley grabbed her sleeve.

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

"Saving Harry," she said, tearing herself away from him. Pansy ran between the students, laser focused on getting to Quirrell. She ducked and weaved before her robe got caught on something knocking over Snape, and in turn, knocking over Quirrell. Before either Snape of Quirrell could spot her, she melted back into the crowd, letting her bangs fall over her signature eyes and covering her face up to her nose with the hem of her scarf, just another chilly Gryffindor enjoying the game.

Harry was in control of his broom again. In a daring move as he plummeted to the ground, Hermione flew right across his path, going just below him.

Harry landed on the ground, staggering around tiredly. He seemed to spit something out and looked at it in his hand.

"And Harry Potter had caught...a wing?" Lee Jordon commented with a weird twist to his voice. Hermione was in the air, waving exuberantly.

"Slytherin has caught the snitch!"

Pansy smiled. Well, this turned out to be a good day after all.

TOF

Pansy had finally gotten around to reading the book of tales.

Fate's Gift is a guide given to those who seek to rewrite the fabric of time, and apparently, she had one. This guide was a person taken from time for some reason or anther, then given again. They were endowed by the Moirai, along with the Ananke, to help the Writers. They had eyes of golden green and a mark from Asteria, mother of Hecate and the grandmother of witchcraft.

She rubbed at her temples in exasperation. Great, not only did someone else know she was from the future, she was expected to work with them. Great, just freaking amazing.

"Pansy." a familiar voice called from behind her.

"What do you need, Blaise?" Pansy asked, pushing away her book and turning to focus on him.

In his hand, he held a little leather journal, and Pansy's eyes widened. She had completely forgotten about that.

"Come on, you might as well sit down." she said, kicking out the chair next to her.

He already moved like a predator, she noticed. He practically slinked into the chair, before turning to face her.

Blaise had his serious face on, instead of the joking lighthearted one she had become accustomed to since she came back. Pansy leaned back in her chair, facing him.

"So, I read through the whole thing. Apparently, me of the future was prejudiced. He flirted with a lot of girls, had a lot of sex. He only journaled the bare essentials. At first it was homework and friend drama. Then, girls, grades, family matters, my inheritance. Then there's a gap. He talks about the end of the war, your apartment. The entries stop and then it's just who's died. Pages and pages of what the Dark Lord forces him to do and death. Then he writes a suicide letter, then since he has a hunch about you finding a way to time travel, he writes a letter. To me, directly."

Blaise sat and seemed to be waiting for her to respond. She scowled. This Blaise was pompous, spoiled, stupid. He wasn't her Blaise.

"Well, what do you do you want me to say? It's all true, not much more to it," she snapped.

"He wasn't really clear about details-"

"You don't want to know all of the details. All you need to know is that if you don't help me, our entire way of life will become extinct, and the girl you love is going to die."

It was happening again. Pansy didn't feel eleven anymore. She felt dangerous and tired. She felt tired a lot lately.

"Well, I guess I'll help then," Blaise said. He stopped, then asked, "The journal never said a lot about her. I never put down anything that would identify her, I didn't even call her by her name. Who was she?"

Blaise recognized the secretive smile that spread across her face. He could suddenly understand why his older self had written about her in such affection.

"You'll figure it out."

TOF

Your mother thinks it is unwise for you to come home just yet, as she does not want to have to worry about your health.

Pansy read over and over again her parents justification for not letting her come home for Christmas. Apparently she had caused enough ripples to make her mother sick as well. She sighed, and put the folded up letter into her pocket of her pants.

"What was that about?" Weasley asked from where he sat next to her on the couch. She gave him a withering look. The boys absolutely refused to give up, especially after she saved Harry. From Snape, if they were to be believed. Now both of them owed her a life debt and both of them were kissing their asses and both of them still didn't quite understand what they did was wrong on every level. And this was coming from a former Death Eater.

"My parents don't want me to come home for Christmas. My mother has fallen ill," she replied. Weasley lit up, delighted she was even talking to him. No, delighted someone who was such a hero was talking to him. Someone who had saved his life, someone who was proof that evil could be reformed. Not her.

She bit her lip and turned back to the notebook she had been working on.

"That's great. Well, I mean, it isn't, but Harry and I are staying for the holidays too. You can celebrate with us."

She almost smiled back but caught herself before it could become anything more than a tiny grin. He caught it, and his smile became even wider.

"Really Ron. Really?"

Weasely sighed and Lavenders voice came from behind them. Pansy looked up to see Ron's ex, future, whatever girlfriend standing above them. Her afro was neatly tidied away in a cute little bun with a large yellow flower. It looked nice.

"Leave it alone, Lavender," he sighed, before turning back to face the fireplace. Lavender bristled, and moved around to stand in front of him.

"What the hell, Ron? I'm the one who told you first that even if she should have been in Slytherin, there was nothing that bad about her besides the fact she was a bitch."

Language, Pansy thought, Sally's voice floating around in her head.

"But you kept saying 'She's evil, she's evil'. So we listened to you. We listened to everything you told us to do. Then you turn around and say you saved her life, she's the defeater of trolls now, savior of Harry, and suddenly everything you told us is null?" Lavender demanded, practically vibrating. Weasley looked her straight in the eye.

"Leave it alone Lavender," Weasley commanded. Pansy felt the magic come and leave before she could even process it. Voice magic. Of course.

Lavender complied and walked away to probably complain to Parvati and Eloise about Weasley's stupidity. But of course they would follow him, of course they would. Because Weasley had voice magic and that was going to manifest into some sort of valuable skill later on.

The Red Death. Their family was famous for having their gift manifest as voice magic when they were young. She just wondered what triggered his.

Weasley was beaming at her again, even as she felt something coil in her stomach.

"So, Christmas?"

TOF

"Pansy! Pansy! Pansy wake up it's Christmas!"

She awoke to two voices shouting from down the staircase. She smashed her pillow over her head, but the voices kept going.

"Lion Snake come on. It's Christmas. Pancakes! Syrup! We know you have a strange fascination with grapes!"

Pansy rolled out of bed, barely stopping to replace her pajama shorts with jeans before she stomped down the steps. The voices continued.

"Pansy! Pansy! Our sweet, delicate flower! Please grace us with your presence!"

"Oh, will you gits shut up?" she snapped when she finally reached the bottom. The twins met her with matching smiles before George took a wrapped parcel from behind his back.

"We wrote our mum about you-"

"She thinks you sound nice-"

"And Percy likes to brag about you-"

"So she made you something."

Pansy pulled the paper off, and the twins shouted.

"A Weasley sweater!"

In her arms was a large, plush dark blue sweater. Cobalt blue, the same color as her eyes. She could see the care that had been taken, and gently stroked her hand over the soft knit. It smelled like cinnamon and something else she couldn't quite put a name on.

"When our mum heard you were a Parkinson, she already knew what color your eyes would be. She also sent some fudge and wishes you a Happy Christmas." Fred said in a surprisingly gentle voice.

She blinked her eyes and realized her eyes had filled up with tears. She blinked them away, before giving them a watery smile.

"Tell her I said thank you," she said. They smiled at her as she pulled the sweater over her head, and George swept her hair out of the neckline.

Percy chose that moment to come down the steps, looking miserable in his own sweater. Even the wide smile Pansy shot at him didn't brighten him up.

"Ready for breakfast, Perce?" Fred asked in good cheer. Percy's scowl just deepened until it was etched into his face.

"I want to study. I have NEWT's next year, this is a time to be thinking about my future." Percy complained.

"Christmas is a time for family," George said jovially. He swung his arms around his brother. Pansy curled the couch, smiling on the display and breathing in the smell of the cinnamon.

"I want to study, and I don't want to wear this dumb sweater." Percy snapped.

"Appreciate the ones you love," Pansy spoke up from the couch. Her voice was quiet, and Percy looked over to where she sat on the couch. He looked conflicted, but his scowl finally slipped. Percy came over to sit next to her on the couch.

Always an opportunist, Pansy smiled as she languidly stretched out like a cat and laid her head in his lap.

"Comb through my hair," she demanded. She heard and felt Percy sigh in exasperation, but he acquiesced and started running her fingers from her scalp to the ends.

"Now we just have to wait for the boys," Fred declared. Pansy sighed. She could already hear them coming down the steps. Sure enough, they appeared soon after, chatting animatedly about something or another.

George looked at Harry's emerald jumper and smiled. "I see mum makes more of an effort for those who aren't family."

Harry blushed sheepishly before he spotted Pansy on the couch with her head in Percy's lap. He frowned and whispered something to Weasley, whose ears turned red.

Pansy sat up reluctantly. "I guess it's time to go to breakfast," she said, already missing Percy running his fingers through her hair. She would just have to get him to do it again later.

TOF

The day passed by in a blur. The Weasley's seemed content to take her in, so Pansy spent most of the day being dragged around by the twins and placating Percy. It was surprisingly fun, despite the fact Weasley and Harry were always at the corner of her eye, whispering about something when they weren't the victims of the twins shenanigans.

The next day passed much the same. Hogwarts, Pansy decided, wasn't a half bad place to spend the holidays. One would think that the halls would be cold and drafty without students to fill the vast expanse, but instead they were warm, filled with light and heat from the torches with added cheer from the decorations Dumbledore decided to hang.

When she could, she separated from the other Gryffindors and just walked up and down the halls in two pairs of thick socks, letting her mind go clear. For now, everything was okay. She knew Quirrell was possessed and that there was something valuable hidden in the school, but that wasn't something she could worry about right then. Dumbledore obviously knew and wouldn't do anything about it, and no other teachers would do anything without his say so. She knew Potter defeated him, and they couldn't kill Quirrell until he went down there.

So instead she curled up on the couch in the common room, finishing her book about brain development and solving a problem of her own.

Nothing physical came back with you

The Hat meant her brain. All that she carried back with her were her soul and her memories, but there was a soul already here. More importantly, a brain.

The brain of an eleven-year-old, one that thought eleven-year-old thoughts and had eleven-year-old feelings. So, for all intents and purposes, she was eleven, which is why she felt that way most of the time. But she still had the older soul that took over when triggered. These souls were melding together until they were one.

She closed the book with a sigh. It seemed as if she were learning all sorts of new things this past couple of months.

Pansy decided instead to luxuriate in this rare feeling of peace. It was late, and everyone was asleep as far as she knew, though she had no doubt it was likely the twins were experimenting with something in their room.

"Pansy." she bit down a groan.

"Yes, Potter?" Pansy said, turning around. Harry was staring down at her with stars in his eyes, his excitement palpable.

"Come on, we want to show you something amazing."

About fifteen minutes later, Pansy was standing in a room with a giant mirror. She shouldn't have been surprised that Potter had an invisibility cloak all these what did completely surprise her was that they were using it to look in a mirror.

"Come on, stand next to me."

Pansy and Weasley huddled on either side of Harry to peer into the mirror. Pansy didn't see anything but their own reflections staring back at them. Harry seemed frustrated.

"You don't see them?" He asked. Pansy thought the boy had finally gone mad.

"See who?" Pansy asked. She looked back at the mirror. It was large, with the inscription Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi scrawled across the top. It was in no language Pansy knew or recognized.

"My parents," Harry said. Pansy's eyes widened before she looked suspiciously at the mirror. Did it show the dead? What would it show her?

"Here, maybe you have to stand in front of it by yourself," Harry said, bustling them out of the way. Weasley was now in front of it.

"No, I don't see your parents mate. I see, blimey, it's me. But, I'm older. And I'm Head Boy, and the Quidditch Captain!"

Weasley was grinning like a madman. Pansy watched him admire himself in the mirror in confusion. If it didn't show the dead, then what exactly what did it show?

"Come on Pansy, what do you see?" Harry asked, a desperate tinge to his voice. Pansy hesitantly walked over to the mirror, her socked feet barely making a sound. It took a moment for the mirror to change before images began rising from the murky background.

First she appeared. Or at least, a version of her. She was in her twenties again, but that was the only part that she recognized. When she was in her twenties she looked battle hardened, uglier than she was even now. This Pansy was...pretty. Her lips, which she always thought looked overly full, were soft and smiling. Her cheek bones didn't look so sharp and severe, the freckles dotting her nose actually looked cute, and her eyes. Her eyes were the same cobalt blue of all of the Parkinsons, but these eyes were kind and bright, not flat and dead. Her dark hair wasn't shorn to her ears, but long and healthy. She looked...happy. She was dressed in healers garments and seemed to be pregnant.

Her eyes were the same cobalt blue of all of the Parkinsons, but these eyes were kind and bright, not flat and dead. Her dark hair wasn't shorn to her ears, but long and healthy. She looked...happy. She was dressed in healers garments and seemed to be pregnant.

This Pansy was standing next to a blurry man whose arm was wrapped around her waist lovingly. He held her close and tight, and Pansy from time to time laughed at something he said. Behind her stood Draco and Hermione and Blaise and Daphne and Theo and Sally and so many others. So alive, so happy. And there was little Lilac, with her blue eyes just the same as Pansy and her hair that always looked like spun gold, smiling mischievously at Pansy.

She pressed her hand against the mirror, and the older Pansy pressed back, smiling happily. She bit back the sting of tears that threatened to escape.

"Pansy, what do you see?" Harry asked.

"It's me. Older. I think I have a boyfriend or something. And I'm surrounded by my friends. We're all...happy." Pansy said.

They all stood silent for a moment, pondering their different visions before they went home.

TOF

The next day the boys didn't talk to her. Instead, they holed themselves up in their dormitory and Pansy tried her very best to forget what she had seen the night before.

The twins were luxuriating in the common room in the matching sweaters Sally had slaved over. Percy studied, and Pansy worked on the piles of journals the Ravenclaw's continued to give her, with more and more extravagant instructions.

She stared at the journal in front of her. This one was for a girl named Cho Chang. She wanted it for Herbology. Pansy was having troubles with the voice control. Cho wanted the journal to be able to read back to her what she had written, but all Pansy could manage was a jumbled garble.

Pansy threw down her wand in frustration. If she wasn't able to do this, the older Ravenclaw wouldn't owe her anything. Plus it was a matter of pride. Pansy Parkinson absolutely did not fail at something like this.

She laid her hands on the journal, trying to calm herself as the Weasley's chattered around her. he felt the smooth leather under her hands, flattened and enlarged by the bit of transfiguration she had already done.

As she sat, she felt a niggling sensation at the back of her head. It twisted and bubbled in her mind, swirling around to the forefront of her eyes. Light spun under her eyelids, before forming a relatively rectangular shape.

The rectangle was made of many different colors, scarlet and emerald and viridian. Pansy was entranced by how they all seemed to flow together almost perfectly.

Pansy's attention was drawn by one that didn't seem to fit quite right with the rest, a band of bubblegum pink energy the looked twisted. She took her hands and ran it over with her fingers, detangling and pulling it straight so that it flowed correctly. Once she was satisfied, she took her hands back and admired her work smugly. Now all of the energy was just right.

Coming back to herself, she opened her eyes to look at the journal again. Tapping it, the book cheerfully began to recite what Chang had written in it. She frowned. This...light ability had been happening a lot since she woke up n June.

"That's an impressive bit of magic there."

Pansy looked up to see George eyeing her speculatively. He held in his hands one of the notebooks she had already made for them, which they huddled over all the time. His smile was bright.

"Thanks, George," Pansy said, finally able to put Chang's notebook into the finished pile. He looked at her again, but Pansy was already absorbed in the next notebook.

She worked for hours, barely acknowledging the portrait door opening and closing, then opening again about an hour later. Harry came in, looking sad and speculative. He passed by her couch without a word, before stopping just at the foot of the steps.

"Dumbledore is moving the mirror tomorrow, just in case you wanted to know."

Pansy hummed, feigning disinterest even as her hands paused over a color changing spell.

"G'nite," he muttered. Pansy heard his padded feet make their way up the steps and tried to pretend she had never thought of anything except the notebooks sitting in front of her right then. It helped shut out thoughts of other things.

The next day went much the same. The boys ignored her all day as they huddled in her room, and the older Weasleys kept her company when she wasn't trying to finish the notebooks.

That night, the portrait didn't open at all. Pansy remembered what Harry had said the night before, and felt herself fill with an unexplainable bout of panic. She needed to see herself, happy, just this one last time.

She stuffed the rest of the notebooks into her bag and snuck out of the portrait.

It was remarkably easy to make her way to the classroom. Hogwarts wasn't very well patrolled. The classroom door was unlocked, and she slipped into the room to see the mirror still standing. Dumbledore was standing in front of it.

"Miss Parkinson, hello. I suppose it isn't surprising to see you here."

He turned around to look at her standing there. She nodded once at him.

"Hello, Dumbledore."

He moved over so that she was at the center and the vision from before flooded the surface. Her older self winked at her, and she wondered if any of what she saw was even possible.

"Do you know what this mirror does, Miss Parkinson?" She shook her head no. "It drives men mad."

"This is the Mirror of Erised, and it shows the viewers deepest desires. That is why Mr. Potter, raised as an orphan, craves for his parents and a sense of belonging. That's why Mr. Weasley, constantly overshadowed by his brothers and all of their accomplishments, ignored in favor of his sister as a baby, sees himself finally recognized as something great. We want to be wanted.

"You, see yourself. Beautiful and happy and truly loved. You came back for love, and I believe you would die for it as well."

Pansy looked at the old man. At this moment, he didn't look all powerful. He looked sad and defeated, a look that was all too familiar to her.

"When I look in this mirror I see two people, alive and happy. Two people I almost destroyed the entire world over. The power that love has, and what you would do to keep it, is quite remarkable."

Pansy looked into the mirror and thought of the impossible. Of that many people, really and truly loving her. Friends instead of allies, family instead of nothing. The only people who had ever truly cared about her were Blaise, Draco, Lilac, and her parents. But her parents love went away in the end, her sister was unborn, and she lost Blaise and Draco. She had no one, the weight of all of her secrets and pain dragged her down. She had no one, no one to love and no one who loved her back. She felt the pressure of Dumbledore's hand fall onto her shoulder.

"You may not trust me Miss Parkinson, but we fight for similar things. We do it all for those we care about. But you must remember that no matter how hard things get, how terrible the world seems, how many times you are hurt, you must keep your heart open. That is the only way you will ever be able to be loved."

Pansy looked in the mirror again, and this time, saw two unfamiliar people. A young, handsome blonde man with dark twinkling eyes and a charming smile, and a young teenager with the ice blue eyes of Dumbledore and long, tumbling auburn hair. She smiled shyly at Pansy.

Her dream showed up as well. Her, happy and beautiful and loved. She couldn't help but notice in all of their happiness, there was an old man and a little girl with tears pouring down their cheeks.

TOF

The next morning she woke up on the couch. Her hair stuck to her cheeks and her eyes still puffy from the night before. She remembered sitting down in the common room, but not putting the warm quilt she now felt around her shoulders. It smelled like broom polish, and the treacle tarts Harry liked to sneak out of the Hall.

She blinked blurrily, and the faces of Weasley and Harry came into her line of sight. They were smiling brightly.

"Look Pansy, we made you a wooden friendship charm. We know it's kinda girly, but we figured since you are a girl that would be alright. We sent one to Sally and Hermione too. We even made Draco a comb!" Weasley rambled, holding out a misshapen piece of wood.

"I talked to Dumbledore about the mirror. He said it showed our deepest desire. All you wanted was love. You kept trying to say that we didn't understand why what we did was wrong, but we get it now. You have desires, and you're a person. Everyone is, and we hurt people. So I mean..." Harry trailed off sheepishly.

She realized that this was probably what they had been working on. It was kinda heart shaped and had the letter P in the middle, filled in with gold metallic paint. She clutched it in her hand, feeling the hardness dig into her palm.

For a moment, she was tempted to throw it right back at them. Pansy was a master at thinking of a million insults that she could hurt them with.

A vision of Erised Pansy floated across her vision. If she ever wanted that, she would have to keep her heart open.

The boys were still looking at her hopefully. They would be great men someday, or they were great men when she knew them. That meant there had to be the potential already inside of them.

She tried smiling and found it spread easier than she thought.

"Um, thanks," she said, clutching the charm in her hand. "I appreciate this."


	7. Fate's Gift

Pansy knew insanity. She'd seen it in the eyes of her classmates and fellow Death Eaters. It danced in people's eyes and spun them away with deadly grace. With the state of her mind at the moment, she was afraid that people would soon see her dancing the same steps.

She was going insane, she was sure of it. She felt like two different completely different people, and they were currently waging war in Pansy's mind. The paranoia that characterized her twenties was creeping back in spades. Everywhere she looked there seemed to be a conspiracy theory.

That's why one day, as she sat staring at Sally Anne Perks, she thought she was losing her mind. Pansy thought she was going crazy when she thought she recalled the Sally in her original timeline had brown eyes, and this one had hazel. She thought she was losing her marbles when the idea crossed her mind that hazel could be constituted as "golden green". Maybe she needed psychiatric help when the sight of Sally's odd birthmark reminded her of what they described as being the mark of Asteria.

However, since Pansy was going insane and paranoid, she figured she might as well follow through on her delusions and throw caution to the wind anyway. What she had to do was figure out how she would approach this. Her first option was to do the Gryffindor thing and straight up ask her. Another thing she could do was casually bring it up and watch for Sally's reaction. Either way, in the end neither would too negatively affect her.

The key was not listening to what the girl said, but rather watching her reaction. Sally was a sweet, honest person by nature. As far as Pansy could tell, she never had any ulterior motives. She was utterly transparent and if she brought it up directly, Sally would simply not be able to lie. Besides, this was probably just a delusion of hers anyway.

Pansy decided to take her opportunity one day soon after winter break during one of her and Sally's quiet moments. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, Sally and Pansy spent an hour before dinner studying and keeping up with their homework. From time to time, they invited Blaise to join them in the library or the Great Hall, and he watched in fascination as Sally knitted whatever project she was currently on. Today, Blaise wasn't there, but Sally was hard at work on a scarf that she thought he would absolutely love. They were sitting in the corner of the Common Room.

Pansy slowly set her quill down, making sure not to make a sound as she pushed away her parchment and casually propped her chin on her sweaty, tingling palms.

"You're Fate's Gift," Pansy stated. Sally's needles paused. Her face tried to carefully arrange itself into one of polite confusion, but Sally was no Slytherin, and Pansy could see right through her. She watched as the blood drained from her face.

"What are you talking about Pansy?" Sally asked, a cautious tone in he voice. Pansy smirked a bit at how absolutely terrified Sally looked. She had her. So why did it make her feel like a ton of cement had settled in her stomach then?

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." Pansy countered. Sally sighed. The look in her eyes was calculating, one Pansy wasn't used to from her honest friend. She waited as Sally came to her decision about something.

"You remember the future, then?" Sally asked, to Pansy's complete surprise. Did she remember the future?

"Of course I do," Pansy said, a note of confusion creeping into her voice. Why was she deflecting? Oh Merlin, Sally was Fate's Gift. Why had she kept this from her?

"They didn't tell me if you would or not. Usually they don't, it takes someone with especially strong will to-" Sally rambled on, the words tumbling from her lips at an embarrassing pace. Pansy felt no guilt about cutting her off.

"Who are you really, and why are you here? Why have you been lying to me?" Pansy asked accusingly. She ignored the little pang of hurt in her stomach.

Sally's eyes widened, and Pansy thought she saw a little glimmer of tears in her eyes.

"I'm Sally, your friend. And we're only supposed to tell you if you show signs of remembering." Sally whispered, hurt evident in her voice.

Ally, she corrected in her mind, but for once that brought her no comfort. Where along the line did she forget no one was truly looking out for her but herself? She only had sort of had Draco, and everyone else around her was only ultimately working for their own ultimate self-interests because why should they care about her? Even Sally only hung around her because it was her job.

"And you didn't think being sorted into Gryffindor was a sign I remembered?" Pansy asked coldly. The same chill was spreading throughout her body, stealing from her small heart.

"Most people don't have specific memories, but their experiences fundamentally change them," Sally said. Her face was bright red, and she looked very close to crying. Something in Pansy very unwillingly softened, and she looked around the common room. No one was paying attention to them yet. They were curled up together in the Common Room on one of the smaller couches.

"Not here." Pansy grabbed her things, and Sally silently followed her up to their dorm.

The two girls immediately fell into a routine they had perfected in October when they were still living in fear of what their roommates would do them. They pushed their beds together in tandem. Next Sally got on the larger bed to set it up and make it comfortable, while Pansy walked about, casting charms on the curtains. Soon, they were both sitting on the bed facing each other, Pansy pushing away the sick feeling she had.

"Why are you here?" Pansy asked again. This was something she noticed Sally seemed to be able to answer comfortably.

"You're a Writer and Writer's need Guides. I'm your Guide. I'll keep you safe." Sally said. Pansy almost smiled at the familiar conviction in her voice, but she still had more questions.

"Why do I need a Guide?" Pansy demanded. Sally let out a startled little laugh that Pansy tried to pretend that didn't sting just a bit.

"You don't just slide into time. Just you being here has an effect on the flow. Things are going to majorly change whether you actually did anything different or not, because time travel has an effect. Have you ever heard of the Elf Unicorn War?"

"Wait, what?"

"Exactly." Sally grinned, but Pansy knew all of Sally's smiles by now, from the quirky little one she got when she saw lemon bars on the table at dinner to the shy teasing ones that blossomed when she spoke to the twins. This was the one she got after one of those hard October days when nothing was quite okay.

"So, what do we do now?" Pansy settled back into the pillows of their combined bed, and Sally settled in next to her. Neither girl noticed that their habit for close proximity hadn't left, and even now they were pressed together so that their arms brushed together in what should have been a comforting familiarity.

"I can talk to you about time travel stuff," Sally suggested. She took her glasses off and rubbed at her eyes, which were in fact just as large as they seemed even without her glasses on.

At Pansy's silence, Sally soldiered on.

"Well, um, I can't tell you a whole lot but I could tell you some. There have been about seventy-two total time travelers in our own little universe since humanity rose out of the dirt. Uh, not all of them were wizards, like half of them were muggles I think. Maybe more. The Moirai wasn't completely clear about who met the criteria, just that some people did and most didn't, and that Writers were crucial to keeping the strings of time smooth. But I mean, after you've met some of them you kinda know."

Her words trailed off into the silence, and Pansy became aware of exactly where they were. They were her on their beds, their safe space with curtains closed to the rest of the world.

And Sally, she was someone who was actually supposed to help Pansy. Not like her Mother, kind and strong but distant, or her father, gruff and stern. Not like the other Slytherins who cared about her only as a long known ally or Harry and Ron whom she still suspected sometimes looked at her more as a prize they won. Even the twins were not to be trusted, because out of all the other people in the world who only helped people for their own purposes, who was to say they were any different?

Maybe having someone around who's job was to help her wouldn't be too bad.

So Pansy swallowed thickly and decided that in this low risk environment, maybe she could be vulnerable.

"I think, I think I'm going insane."

Though Sally didn't verbally reply, she sat up from her position on the pillows and tugged Pansy's head into her lap. She pressed her warm fingertips to Pansy's temples, slipping under her hair and gently massaging at the sides.

Pansy felt her eyelids slowly drift close, and somehow she could tell that Sally's drifted close too. Like at Christmas, as she closed her eyes light appeared. Only this time, instead of being a gentle pink that nestled all in one place, it was an array of colors, some of which she had never even seen before. They came in lines and twisted in clusters, blue yellow, red green, and in the middle of it all was a light of golden green that seemed to pull at her...

Until she stood in the middle of it all. Pansy now was kneeling in the middle of darkness, to which there seemed to be no beginning or in and above her lights warred against one another in a fight for dominance.

"Sally?" Pansy called out.

"Over here."

Pansy whirled around to see Sally standing close at her side, her gaze fixated on the colors above. Pansy noted that this Sally looked...different. Not quite her Sally, though she was the same age and had the same eyes and Mark. Now her hair that was normally an ordinary pretty light brown with numerous waves hung thick and straight, darkened to the color of a dark chocolate bar. Her chin was more pointed, her cheekbones more slanted, her lips thinner.

This...altered Sally didn't look happy at whatever she saw above.

"Where are we?" Pansy asked though she already knew the answer.

"Your mind," Sally walked around and touched a stray strand of colored light Pansy could only describe as blue yellow. "This is worse than I thought. Your two selves aren't combining as well as they should be. Your mind palace is in shambles."

Sally turned back to Pansy, and she had to stop herself from taking a startled step back. Sally had aged. Now she looked about nineteen and her hair was tied up on top of her head in a messy knot. Sally didn't seem to notice Pansy's bafflement.

"When a time traveler goes back their selves go back with them. If they're attempting to go back farther than when they were born, then they take over one of their parents which have led to some...complications. Anyway, on a fundamental level your two selves are the same, but the greater amount of years you jump the harder it is to meld.

"Theoretically, you should be fine. Victoria and Frankie both jumped fifty years. The granddaughter of that African Queen jumped seventy, and they were all fine in the end, at least. But it looks like your will is different. You're just as stubborn as all of them, but somethings off."

Sally worried her lip, and Pansy was once again distracted as Sally aged before her eyes once more. Now she looked thirty, with a full pregnant belly she absently mindedly stroked as she walked around the confines of Pansy's mind.

"How well do you see magic?" Sally questioned. Pansy shrugged.

"As well as anyone." Sally's face scrunched up.

"I mean, do you see magic? The way it knits together in the world, the equilibrium of light and dark..."

"Well, I closed my eyes and saw the pink magic of a journal I think?"

Sally sighed, and Pansy decided to plop down of the dark space below her. The floor of her mind was surprisingly comfortable.

"I'm just going to tidy up in here. Since you're not assimilating the way you should, I'll just restrain your older self a bit-"

"Wait, what?" Pansy exclaimed. She glared up at Sally who stood above her in the body in a seven-year-old, then decided that she would probably be taken more seriously if she stood back up. Pansy planted her hands on her hips and glowered at the smaller girl.

"We have to tie up your Older. Not completely, of course, part of it will still influence Younger, but this way it will slowly release and integrate better into your whole self." At her distraught looks, Sally's young face softened. "I'm so sorry Pansy, but it has to be done. You'll still be able to fight, do magic. That's too embedded into your muscle memory by now since Older has been pretty dominating for months."

"You'll feel more like one person, with your Older as more of an afterthought. We've only done this twice before though..."

Pansy remained silent, and Sally wordlessly turned away from her to face the lights above them. She instead looked at the ground. It was an odd feeling, being inside of her own mind while still experiencing the effects. She had to close her eyes as she felt Sally poking around, tugging at something, pulling at that. Under her lids, things began to swirl, and she was falling falling falling.

"Wake up. Pansy, wake up." She felt someone tapping at her temple.

"Shut up Daphne, stop being a cow." She burrowed herself deeper into her comfortable resting place resting place before realizing it was a lap. Startled, she bolted upright. Why was she surrounded by red? Where was she? What was she doing here?

She began to panic, and without even realizing it her hand shot towards her wand.

"Pans-"

The persons words cut off with a startled gasp as they found the tip of a wand digging into their throat.

It was a girl, one who was vaguely recognizable to Pansy. Probably one of those stupidly generic Hufflepuff girls. She was her age, with nerdy glasses and puffy cheeks.

"Pansy, calm down."

"Where are we?"

"Pansy, remember."

"Remember wh-"

Later on, Pansy would tell you it was highly un recommendable to get hit with over twenty years of your life story at once, especially when those years came with two wars and a healthy dose of PTSD.

Sally would tell you it was highly satisfying to slap your hyperventilating friend after she had already held a wand to your neck. Or, maybe she wouldn't. Sally was great at discretion.

"Calm down, calm down right now." Sally cast silencing charms on the curtains, knowing that if anyone heard her convulsing friend gasping for breath they would certainly get some looks the next day.

Pansy was still dry heaving on the covers, her arms wrapped around her waist as she struggled to hold herself together. She felt herself being lowered back down onto someone's lap, being held still by a comforting arm as a small hand worked its way through her hair.

"Breathe with me. In, out. In, out. Come on darlin'."

They laid there together for awhile. Pansy could feel her head settling, like a snow globe that had been all shaken up. Part of her still hurt, and she knew this was the seem behind which Older was stored. Well, most of her. A part of her broken self still floated around and Younger was determined not to let herself become broken as well.

"Goodness gracious. Your Younger's attitude with your Older's battle instincts. This should be fun."

"Is that an American accent? That one where they kept all the black people?" Pansy asked blearily. Sally's hand stilled for a moment before she continued her soothing ministrations on her scalp.

"Yes, it is."

"Why do you have one?"

"I grew up there. In my other life. Come on, it's time for you to get some food in you."

TOF

Pansy was no longer quite insane, though Younger didn't really know insanity.

Instead, she stumbled through the next few days in a sort of daze, not really paying attention to much of anything or anyone. Everything was so confusing. She was Pansy, but she was also Older and Younger. She had all of Older's memories and reflexes, but only a small part of her that was Older unleashed felt the true grief. Younger was just scared, and angry, and snappish.

However, the entire ordeal made her much more confused. Having her mind split more as different entities felt odd, and she felt many of her old prejudices and fears coming back.

She no longer saw Hermione just as Hermione, but as that frizzy haired Mudblood know it all bitch who thought she was too good for the rest of the girls. Sally was a stupid Hufflepuff, Harry was a simple mix breed, and Ron was a blood traitor, no matter his true heritage.

Not to mention, the other Slytherins simply just weren't acting up to their lineage. They were consorting with everything their parents told them not to, getting new ideas, new notions. Younger was having a hard time reconciling her current ideas of herself with what she knew what she would become. What she already was, really.

It was a war of a different kind, between the two things she learned were right. Thankfully she had Sally by her side.

Sally, who had proven herself to be loyal. Who sat with her once again through the nights just in silence as she pretended to study and instead pieced together her mind. Sally was in just as much of a conundrum as she was, a young girl with a woman's memories. They felt eleven, but were they really?

This was the main question on Pansy's mind as she walked down the hallway a few days before Valentines day, her arms heavy with textbooks. She had been avoiding most everyone lately, which meant her homework was truly suffering. Not because she didn't know it; even if Older had been out of classes for awhile, First Year work was still ridiculously for anyone with half the memories Pansy had.

Something cracked somewhere to her left. "Oh darn."

Pansy turned her head at the exclamation to see Neville Longbottom looking forlorn. She hadn't spoken to him in quite awhile. He was still a quiet boy and had pretty much just disappeared into the woodwork after Ron and Harry had come to the decision she wasn't pure evil.

At his feet lay a cracked open clay plant pot with a tiny little seedling laying in the middle of loamy soil. Pansy watched as Neville solemnly knelt down and started gathering the pieces.

"Here, let me help," Pansy said, surprising herself at her own willingness. She knelt down, careless of the dirt getting on her robe. This was good soil, she noted. Rich, moist, ready to bear any plants someone threw at it. She carefully picked up the little seedling. It was small but looked relatively undamaged from the possibly deadly fall. With delicate hands, she collected some of the fallen solid and made her own little makeshift pot in the cup of her hands.

"It's a baby willow tree. I just started it." Pansy looked to her side to see Neville looking at her with slightly pinkened ears and a sheepish smile. His hands, which Older knew one day would be large and strong and capable, held the broken shards of the clay pot.

"They grow a lot faster around magic, right?" Pansy asked, carefully standing with the seedling still in her hands. A lot of the soil was still on the ground, but the two ignored it to walk down the halls. Pansy half wondered where he was leading her, but it really didn't matter. Younger and Older both knew that of all people Neville Longbottom definitely wasn't a threat. He was a nice shy boy who would grow up to be a good strong man.

"Yeah, I just planted it yesterday. My grandma thinks it's a good idea for me to start learning how to grow wand wood." Pansy hummed and smiled, and Neville shyly took that as a sign to continue on talking about the different trees he grew. Right now he was just learning the basics of how to properly care for a tree in magical circumstances before he moved on to how to optimize it for wands.

Before long they arrived at a series of clear glass doors near where Professor Sprout had her office. Neville walked up to one a murmured a password too quietly for her to hear. The door cracked open, and he propped the door open for Pansy to enter. She brushed past him to see that they had entered a decently sized greenhouse. The air was heavy with humidity and smelled of more of that loamy soil. There weren't a lot of plants there yet, just a few trees and a bunch of pots with things at various stages of growth. It was clean and well kept and very Neville.

He came up with another pot and shoveled in some soil. She put the willow seedling in and packed it around the tree.

They stood there in silence for a moment, mutually appreciating that the seedling was once again safe and sound.

"You can come around whenever you know." Pansy looked up in surprise. Neville stood there blushing furiously, his hands shoved into his pockets.

"I know you're really good at Herbology, and sometimes I'd like some help." Pansy blinked, and felt her cheeks start to heat up a bit.

"Um, yeah, that'd be great." She blurted. They stood there, awkwardly staring at one another before Pansy muttered that she had to go and Neville said he had work to do anyway.

When she got back to her dorm and looked in the mirror she could see her hair frizzed out from the humidity of the greenhouse and her cheeks still a bright pink from embarrassment. But most clearly, she could see her wide grin from having someone actually _want_ her around. Yeah, Pansy most definitely was eleven.


	8. Sirius Black

Harry was sweating. He could feel it in a long trickle going down his back before it fell into the waistline of Dudley's pants, belted tight around his bony waist.

He had gotten the message that Dumbledore wanted to see him right in the middle of Quidditch practice and his body still felt like an oven from the strenuous exercise. The team had been practicing extra hard ever since they got the news that Snape would be the referee for the next match. Considering Ron was convinced Snape was the one who tried to knock him off of his broom and Harry was convinced that Snape was trying to steal whatever was hidden under the trap door he was quite weary of the man.

He absently wondered who else had sat in this chair before him. Students who had gotten in trouble usually had to go to their Heads of House, so he assumed it was only the worst of the worst who came here. Since he and Ron had stopped their erroneous treatment of Pansy months before, he doubted it was for that.

At the thought of Pansy, he flinched. He still wasn't sure why he and Ron had done anything like that. If Pansy was right, it was because they hadn't seen her and her friends as real people. He wondered if maybe that was why the Dursleys hated him the way they did; because they didn't see him as a person.

That thought train was interrupted by a gentle whoosh in the corner of the room. Harry turned his head to see Dumbledore standing there, decked out in violently purple and orange robes. He swept over to Harry, and behind him, Harry saw Professor McGonagall with Scabbers in her hands, encased in a glowing green cage and a guilty look in her eyes.

...What was going on?

Professor McGonagall sat off to the side, and Dumbledore settled himself in front of him. Unknown to Harry, Pansy had been in this exact position a few months ago. Although with Snape as the one to her side. McGonagall sat the cage on top of the desk before folding her hands in her lap

"Harry, we have something to tell you." McGonagall started. She made a small choking sound and turned to Dumbledore, who seemed more than willing to take over the conversation.

"Harry, when your father was young he had three best friends. Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and Sirius Black." Dumbledore paused and searched Harry's face for something. For what, Harry didn't know. Did he expect Harry to recognize any of these names? When Harry didn't make any sign he knew what Dumbledore was talking about, he continued.

"As the war effort drew on, your parents became widely recognized fighters and targets for all those on the side of the Dark. When your mother fell pregnant with you, it was decided that your parents would have to go into hiding. They were moved into their house in Godric's Hollow and their home was placed under the Fidelius charm. Under that charm, their location would only be able to be found out if their Secret Keeper told because their location was now buried into their soul."

Harry felt something like knowing grow within him, but it wasn't knowledge that he wanted. It was an awareness that happened much too often nowadays. With that awareness, he felt something spark in him. Something very bad.

"Your parents had a choice to make. Remus Lupin, they feared, was more susceptible to the manipulations of the Dark Lord. Peter Pettigrew was loyal. But Sirius Black was James closest friend and, therefore, the obvious choice."

"And as the story goes, Sirius Black immediately went out to the Dark Lord to disclose your parent's location. The Dark Lord killed your parents, attempted to kill you, and disappeared. Enraged by his failure, Sirius tracked down Peter who begged him for mercy before Sirius blew up the street killing several muggles. All that was left of Peter was a finger...and that story, as we now know, is a lie."

Dumbledore stopped to take a drink of water, and all Harry could think was what type of man would take a bloody sip of water in the middle of a tale like this?

Dumbledore set the glass down. McGonagall tapped impatiently against his desk and Harry could feel that the trail of sweat that had trickled down his spine had dried. Perhaps the heat that was growing inside of him had burned it away.

"So...the truth is?" Harry prodded, as it seemed Dumbledore was going to keep him in this dramatic pause indefinitely. He reminded him of Lavender.

"The truth is that we were given a tip by someone with in-depth information about the Death Eaters. Then we followed through on this tip, and as it turns out, Peter Pettigrew is alive. The truth is that this information calls that entire story into question, especially as instead of revealing himself, Peter instead decided to live the last ten years of his life in hiding as a beloved family pet."

Professor Dumbledore tilted his head, and Harry suddenly knew why Scabbers was in the room. He turned to look at the rat...man...rat...rat man. Scabbers had always been a rather underwhelming pet. Harry really had no particular feelings towards the animal. Ron was caught up in an odd love-hate relationship with it. On one hand it was his pet. On the other hand, he was just another item on the long list of hand me downs Ron hand been given his entire life, another reminder that nothing Ron had was truly his.

Now, though, now Harry had some feelings towards him. He couldn't place quite what they were, but this man may have had something to do with his parent's murder.

"We wanted to tell you before we turned Peter in. This will be a media circus of course, and we didn't want you to suddenly be caught in the middle of it without any pretext. Sirius will be re-trialed-"

"In order to be re-trialed, he would have had to be given a trial in the first place," McGonagall scoffed.

"Now Minerva..." Dumbledore chastised.

"I'm just saying if we had been in America or France this wouldn't have happened. The system is flawed," she snapped.

" _Humans_ are flawed, and they've stumbled as much as we have."

Professor McGonagall's lips thinned, and Harry sat back in his seat. He had the feeling this was about more than just his parents.

Dumbledore turned to him and smiled.

"You can go now, Harry. Rest assured we will keep you updated."

So Harry left. But he left with his thoughts swirling and a spark inside of him, and as these thoughts continued they were fed to the fire like kindling until Harry was consumed in an inferno.

***  
TOF  
***

"Pansy?" Ron was laying on the couch opposite from her with a book hovering above his head. Pansy sat with Sally, finishing up the last of her charms essay. Pansy rued that Older hadn't paid much attention to her schoolwork in her timeline. It left Pansy at a deficit when it came to much of her theory homework and it was becoming steadily more apparent that if she didn't step up her game her position near the top of the class would be in danger.

She may have gotten the prefect badge the first time around, but that was against girls like Millicent and Daphne who didn't want to appear too smart so families didn't see them as a threat. Most of the girls in Gryffindor were better than that. Well, kinda.

"Yes, Ron?" she finally remembered to reply. Pansy started to tear the pages out of her journal, which helpfully regenerated as she put the papers together to form a scroll.

"Who is Nicholas Flamel?" He asked. Pansy looked up. He was reading his Herbology textbook, so she knew he probably hadn't come across the name in there.

Pansy's eyes narrowed. "Why do you need to know?"

"I read his name in my book."

"You're reading a Herbology book."

"Not this one, my History of Magic book." Ron was now sitting up, her posture a comfortable slouch as he leaned forward and fixed her with his bright eyes and an easy smile. Pansy had to admit, he was getting much better at dodging her. She guessed that he was getting tired of getting so easily outsmarted in their conversations.

"Well, I guess with your family's financial issues you'd want to follow in his footsteps then?" Pansy stared at him, a challenge in her eyes. Ron barely even flinched, He was too focused.

"Nicholas Flamel," Pansy started, watching as Ron leaned even closer, "Invented the Sorcerer's Stone. It can be used to turn any metal into pure gold and more importantly, can be used to create the Elixer of Life."

Older was very well versed in all of the uses of the Sorcerors Stone. In her timeline, the Dark Lord was hard at work in creating it to extend the lives of his most faithful servants. Even Younger shuddered at the thought of Bellatrix Lestrange living forever.

Ron was frowning now, a truly thoughtful expression on his face.

"Why isn't this in any of the history books? I mean, they'll mention him once or twice, but nothing too in-depth."

Pansy shrugged, a common habit that she had picked up from her time in the muggle world but that her training made look delicate. "Well, first he made it over six hundred years ago. His invention is in no one's recent memory but his. And second, because that's very popular magic and putting it in the public eye too much might give people the wrong idea."

Not people like Pansy, probably. She already had the memories of two wars in her mind and she wasn't looking forward to going through another one. Humans weren't naturally peaceful. She'd be damned if she were going to extend her life just to go through even more.

Ron still looked curious, but now he looked a bit accusatory as well.

"Why do you know about it then?" He snapped. A slow smile spread across her face.

"You'd know about it too if you still had access to your family libraries."

The tips of Ron's ears turned red, and Pansy reveled in the fact that she still had some effect on him. Before Ron could retort, Harry came bursting through the portrait door with a very conflicted look on his face. It reminded Pansy of Older's memories of him in the future when he would pace back and forth over the battle strategies Ron and his team produced for him.

Ron jumped up from his seat with a grin on his face.

"Mate, Pansy-"

"Did you two know about Sirius Black?" Harry demanded. His fists were shaking as his mouth seemed to twist and distort. Pansy was torn between comforting him, slapping the sniveling brat, and cowering in fear.

Ron blinked slowly, but he almost subconsciously moved in front of Pansy as if to protect her from Harry's wrath. She thought the gesture was cute if vastly misguided.

"Everyone knows about Sirius Black, mate." Ron didn't dare move from his position in front of Pansy, but he still held his hand out towards Harry as if he were calming a wild animal. A moment later, Pansy could see why. Even with her blocked view, she could see Harry's magic, whipping around him as though he lived in a hurricane. It burned white like the hottest of flames and she was suddenly afraid, so afraid for Ron.

She rose from behind him slowly while Harry and Ron spoke.

"Then why didn't you tell me? Why didn't anyone tell me?" Harry pleaded, but Pansy was not to be fooled by his sad tone. His magic was still poised to attack, and it had only grown larger.

Others in the common room had finally noticed the apocalyptic event about to happen. Unfortunately, Harry was blocking the way to the steps. Also, unfortunately, none of the upperclassmen seemed to have guts enough to step in. Pansy glanced around for Percy, but he was nowhere to be seen. She turned to the top of the steps to see him standing there instead, hurriedly moving curious boys away from the entrance. Away from the danger. Away from Harry.

"We thought you knew, everyone knows why wouldn't you?" Ron shouted. The sound of Harry's magic was like a wind gale. A small twitching movement caught her eye.

"Goddamnit," she swore. His magic was now spreading through the common room like a forest fire, catching onto individual pieces of furniture. Any moment now, pieces would start flying. Pansy whipped out a couple of shields, sending them towards the huddled group of Gryffindors in the corner of the room.

"I thought, I thought it was just Voldemort being evil. But it wasn't true. People just keep lying to me and keeping things from me. You're just like the Dursleys. I'm just like the Dursley's." Harry shouted. Now tears were falling down his cheeks, and every time his voice raised the furniture got an extra push.

People were flinching behind the shields Pansy had put up. She had no idea where this was coming from. The Harry Older remembered during her school years knew Potter as the type to through simple, nonmagical bitch fits and then go sulk in the corner somewhere or take it out on Draco when he provoked him. This Harry was unstable. Then again, this Harry was eleven and the first Harry was thirteen when he found out.

"Pansy!" She turned to see Sally at the top of the steps, casually holding up a shield to protect the other girls from the storm that was clearly about to go down. The look in Sally's eyes very clearly said, "I blame you for this, do something."

"Ron, do something." Pansy jabbed Ron in the ribs even as she ducked to avoid a flying quill.

Ron looked nervous. Harry's voice was now drowned out by the sound of his own magic. He looked like he was ranting now, even as he cried in the middle of the room.

"He won't be able to hear me," Ron shouted back. Pansy rolled her eyes.

"Then amplify your voice. Honestly, Ron, use your brain!" Pansy sneered.

Ron barely seemed to pick up on her tone, and instead simply lifted his wand to his throat.

"Sonorus." Pansy saw the pulse of purple that engulfed his vocal cords. Ron seemed to shake himself for a moment, before making himself stand straight. An air of steely determination settled about him.

"Harry, calm down." Ron's voice cut across the room, but Harry seemed to ignore it. He was no longer ranting, but his magic still swirled about him in a deadly storm.

"Harry, calm down right now. You're scaring everyone. Harry!"

That seemed to get through to him. A spell broke, and the wind stopped. Every piece of furniture that had been up in the air dropped to the ground with a very sudden thud. But Pansy didn't care. She left the other students to erect their own shields and ran towards Hary. He looked so small and scared, like the first time she had met him. He was on the ground, his head buried into his hand. She got to her knees beside him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Not even a moment later she felt Ron on his other side.

There was shouting now. Pansy looked up at Ron with wide eyes.

"We need to get him out of here, now."

He nodded resolutely at her. Together they hurriedly coaxed Harry into standing up and rushed him out of the Common Room. Pansy wasn't even surprised when Sally appeared by her side with all of their bags slung around her shoulders.

"Where are we going?" Ron grunted under Harry's weight. He didn't weigh too much, but he wasn't putting a lot of effort towards his own movement and Ron wasn't exactly made of muscle at the moment.

"Room of Requirement," Pansy replied. he turned to Sally and she nodded, already going ahead of the group.

By the time they finally reached it, both Pansy and Ron were exhausted, but Sally had the room ready and was talking to a house elf about some snacks.

They set Harry down on one of the couches where he immediately curled up into a ball. Pansy left him alone for the moment, choosing instead to grab Ron and Sally and drag them away into a corner of the room.

"Okay, we have to figure out what we're going to do."

The others nodded in agreement, and Sally adopted a deeply worried look on her face.

"Do any of us know what happened?" she asked. Ron shook his head.

"No. He was yelling something about Sirius Black, though. Seems like he just found out about all that, and I'm guessing he thinks we were keeping it from him." This was one of the rare times Pansy had seen Ron, at this age at least, look so serious.

"But we weren't. Sirius Black is common knowledge, we all kind of assumed that he'd just know." Sally said. From the significant look Sally gave her, she knew that they were both aware that there were things about Sirius Black that weren't such common knowledge, but what would two first year Gryffindors know about that, anyway?

Pansy felt her stomach turn. This wouldn't have happened if she had just kept her mouth shut and waited until Harry was more emotionally stable to let this little tidbit out into the air.

"We're just gonna to have to talk to him. Get some food in him first, ask him why he's so upset, yea?" Ron patted them both on the shoulders and they all turned as one back to where Harry was curled up. The house elf had come back and left a large pot of tea along with some sandwiches and biscuits.

Pansy sat beside him and got him back up into a sitting position. She noted with some satisfaction that he wasn't as skinny as he was the first time she met him, but maybe she could get him some nutrition potions or something of the sort.

Older and Younger were in perfect synchrony. This boy needed taking care of.

She loaded a plate with sandwiches and biscuits for him, along with the sole treacle tart the house elves had known for some reason to put on the tray. Pansy even made up his cup of tea, two sugars and a splash of lemon, just how he liked it.

They all ate in silence, but the only one who ate with any enthusiasm was Ron. Pansy didn't let anyone speak until she'd made sure that Harry had eaten his sandwich, half of his tart, and drunk at least a few mouthfuls of tea. With all of the magic he had just expended, he'd need the energy.

"So, Harry, um, what happened?" Sally asked, nervously tugging on a piece of hair.

There was a moment of silence before Harry began to speak.

"Dumbledore he...he called me to his office. Told me about my godfather, Sirius Black." He said. Harry stopped and took another long sip of his tea.

Ron chose this moment to speak up. "Yeah, it's common knowledge mate, didn't really think to bring it up."

"Yes," Pansy added in, fully aware she was about to step in it. "It's not considered polite in good society to bring up the cause of your parent's death."

"He didn't kill them," Harry whispered.

So he related everything that Dumbledore had told him, along with a few opinions of his own. Ron was on the edge of his seat, completely riveted and appropriately disgusted when Harry said that his rat was actually Peter Pettigrew in disguise.

"The blokes seen me naked!" He exclaimed at one point.''

Pansy sat at the edge of her seat for a different reason. She perched there, her back ramrod straight and her expression appropriately interested, but she paid more attention to his expressions than his words.

Harry seemed more invigorated and less sad the more he spoke about it, but the anger remained. She could see it, Older could see it. The type of anger in his eyes was the kind that changed someone.

She wondered how it would change Harry, to have such a deep anger and feelings of betrayal at such a young age. But of course, he would have his godfather now, and that's what she wanted for him. A bit of his family to give him the love he so desperately needed.

_We should've known that our every action would come with a consequence. Who knows all that we've changed now._

Younger shivered. If the loss of a bit of Harry's innocence now was the price for his greater happiness in the future, she would make the same decision every time. That is if she couldn't put her already tainted soul in the crossfire first.

All for the greater good.


End file.
